Shattered Worlds
by Harold Saxon
Summary: A mysterious portal on an abandoned spaceship brings the 10th Doctor and the Master back to their common past. One small act, and the Master sets things in motions that will alter the course of their lives entirely. post EOT. Noncanon.  COMPLETED
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Shattered Worlds**

**Spoilers**: post The End of Time, non-canon

**Part of Series:** Shattered Worlds is part of a series called "A Timelord and his Madman", but can be read as a stand-alone. The series include: (1) His Silent Mind, starting from the events of the End of Time, but with an alternative twist that the 10th Doctor was not forced to regenerate. (2) Judoon Justice. (3) A Murderous Feast. The links to these stories can be found on my author's page, or go to my author's page to find the link to my website for more information.

**Characters:** The 10th Doctor, The Master (John Simm), Martha Jones

**Synopsis:** A mysterious portal on an abandoned spaceship brings the 10th Doctor and the Master back to their common past. One small act, and the Master set things in motions that alter the course of their lives entirely. Will it be the dawn of a golden age, or will this lead to the destruction of creation itself?

**AND:** Many thanks to Koschei the Pianist and Edzel2 for beta-reading support

**Chapter 1**

**1.**

Rachel Boekbinder was an eight years old girl with large blue eyes that questioned everything. She wore red shoes, and a new coat for summer that was two sizes too big for her. It was really uncomfortable, and when she complained about it to her mother, Mrs Boekbinder just smiled kindly at her and told her that she would soon grow into it. Young as she was, Rachel was always asking important questions, like why is the sky blue? Is there a reason why the leaves on the trees are green, and where do the swans in the lake go in the winter? Her parents patiently answered all of her questions as well as they can, as loving parents often do. One day, little Rachel was standing in the hallway, ready to head out for school. As she was studying her oversized coat, she noticed the yellow shape that her mother had stitched onto her sleeve last evening. Another question popped up in her head.

"Mummy, why do I need to wear a star?" She asked, looking up at her mother who just came out of the kitchen with a brown paper bag containing her lunch. Mrs Boekbinder looked at Rachel for a moment, her eyes wide like two perfect pools of still liquid.

"Because…because you're a very special girl." She finally managed to tell her little daughter. "That's why. All the other children should be jealous of you." She added, and lovingly, she ran her fingers through Rachel's hair.

Back at school, Rachel told the other children in her class what her mother told her about her new star. Most of her friends believed her, and stood in line in the schoolyard during the midday break to admire the pretty yellow star stitched on Rachel's sleeve. Rachel was disappointed when she showed the star to Mark Huizinga, a boy she secretly liked, and who was a little older. Instead of telling her how beautiful it looked, he just nodded and pressed his lips tightly together till they disappeared into a thin white line. And then there was Diekerik, a very nasty little boy who lived around the corner of her street and whose father owned a butcher's shop. When she showed him the star, he just laughed at her, and told her that her mother was a stupid Jew. Rachel was very upset, but she didn't cry. She wasn't one for crying. Instead, she got angry and pushed the boy so hard that he fell on the ground and scraped his knees. It ended with the butcher coming to their house to complain, and Rachel's mom telling her not to play with Diekerik again. Rachel was glad. She hated the butcher's boy for what he had said about her mother.

Rachel lived with her parents and her little baby sister in Amsterdam, in a tall, lofty old merchant house in the Rijnstraat in a small apartment on the second floor. Her father was a journalist and worked for a local newspaper. When Rachel grew up, she wanted to become a journalist too, just like him. In the late evening, after dinner, she would hop on the window sill and sitting with her back pressed against the glass panes, she would watch her father quietly. Mr Boekbinder would sit behind his desk, smoke his pipe, drink half a glass of Whiskey, and read through his notes for half an hour before he would even touch a single key on the typewriter. But when he started to write, he wouldn't stop till it was finished. His fingers flew over the keys like the wings of a large flapping bird, and the continuous rattle of the type bars hitting the ribbon would go on till late at night. After Rachel was sent to bed, she would listen to that most comforting, familiar sound, letting it guide her to her dreams.

On one particularly hot summer night, the little girl had much trouble sleeping, and she was still awake around midnight, listening to the metal clunks of her father's old typewriter in the dark. Her bedroom windows were left open to let a soft evening breeze enter the humid space. Outside, the sky was full of static tension. A storm was brewing, which soon would bring soothing rain and much needed refreshment, but for now, it was still hot and she was drowning in the sweat of her thin nightgown.

She turned on her side and stared at her stuffed toy animals, who were all sitting neatly in a row on the shelf, looking back at her with their friendly button eyes. She wondered if they felt as uncomfortable and hot as she did.

The rattle of her father's typewriter suddenly stopped. She heard him pacing to the other side of the room. Then the radio was turned on. The sounds from the speaker reached her right through the thin walls of the apartment. A heated crowd was shouting through the static, followed by the fierce words of a very angry sounding man, far away in Germany, whose voice droned through the radio speaker, spreading a message of paranoia and hate, while his audience clapped and cheering him on by the thousands.

Rachel didn't understand a word of German. Still she was very frightened by it.

Luckily, her father quickly changed the channel. An another voice, a calm and strong, more civilized voice, came up from the static, and although the man in the broadcast spoke in English, which she also didn't understand, his words comforted and calmed her as much as the German voice had instilled fear into her young heart. Her family was listening to a BBC broadcast, reporting on the evacuation of Dunkirk. She didn't know who that man was, who was speaking about how wars were not won by retreat, nor did operation Dynamo meant anything to her, but from the burdened silence that came from her parents in the livingroom, she realized that the message must be very important.

"No! They can't! They can't just leave!" She heard father shout at the radio. His voice was a strange mix of anger and despair. Her mother tried to calm him, and shushed her baby sister who had woken up and was crying. To make things worse, the friendly English voice faded back into static, and the angry man returned, spreading his mindless hatred out into the world. Her father cursed loudly. He slapped on the radio and the hostile German voice melted with the ongoing static into a mad diabolical gabble.

Then the loud crack of thunder split the air, making Rachel sit upright in her bed.

She gazed out of her bedroom window. The houses in her street lit up for a moment when a clash of lightening brightened the sky, as if God had suddenly switched on the sun. Rachel coiled her fingers around her blanket and sucked in a deep breath. She knew about lightening and thunder. Her father had explained it to her. So she tried to be brave and kept reminding herself that it was nothing to be afraid of.

But wasn't the lightening supposed to strike before you heard the thunder?

A strong wind swept up, making her pink bedroom curtains dance like phantoms, blowing back her hair and cooling the sweat on her brow. Her hart started to race. An eerie sound came to her. Not from outside, for it wasn't a natural sound that was created by the upcoming storm, nor did it come from the radio in the living room. No. It seemed come from inside her bedroom.

She heard four beats, rhythmic and repetitive. It surround her, growing louder and louder, till she could no longer hear the demonic static from her father's radio, nor the noise of crackling thunder and the violent downpour of rain that had started clattering on the roof and swamping the streets below. All she could hear was those four beats.

"Daddy!" She yelled, truly frightened now, she pressed her hands on her ears to block out the noise, but it seemed that the source of that most evil sound was now inside her, joining in with the mad drumbeats of her own frightened little heart.

Mr. Boekbinder had heard his child blood-chilling scream, and rushed to her aid. "Rachel!" He yelled, and turned the door handle, but found that the room was locked. His blood ran cold when he saw the eerie blue strips of light shining through the gaps of the closed door. "Rachel! What's happening? Who's in there?"

Rachel sat huddled in a corner when a blue light erupted and flooded through her window with all the violence of a midday dessert sun. Her bedroom began to dissolve in the strange bright light.

The little girl screamed in terror.

"Rachel!" Mr. Boekbinder slammed his shoulder against the door. The sheer force of the impact dislodged the lock and the door flew open, letting Mr Boekbinder crashed inside.

"Ra-"

His daughter's name caught in his throat. She was no longer here. In fact, the room seemed not to be occupied by anyone. Rachel's bed, her wardrobe, her toy chest and the shelves with stuffed animals had all disappeared. Instead of a little girl's bedroom, the small square space now looked more like a storage room, occupied with boxes filled with old documents, books piled high in the corners, and the old furniture of Rachel's grandma gathering dust under yellowing sheets.

Rachel's father blinked his eyes as if he was awakening from a dream. The name he wanted to call out only a second ago was quickly vanishing from his mind. For a moment he was lost, and he gazed purposelessly around in the dark room.

Why did he come in here again?

"Why did you run away love?"

He turned around and saw his wife staring at him with her loving but worried eyes. She was cradling their 6 months old baby daughter in her arms.

"I know that you are upset about the British." She said to him. "I'm sorry for arguing with you, but you shouldn't shout like that. You know that our neighbors don't like us. Anything we do to attract their attention will have them send in the Germans to get us out. And then what will be become of us?"

Their little girl was still crying. She petted her back and kissed her baby tenderly to comfort her, while looking at her husband, begging him to understand.

"Oh…I'm sorry." Mr. Boekbinder took his wife and child in his arms. "Darling. I'm so sorry for yelling at you. I promise I won't do it again." He brushed his cheek against his wife's soft skin and breathed in her warm sweet scent of sweat and lavender soap. How could he ever be angry with her? He loved her. "No more shouting in this house." He said and looked her in the eyes, smiling foolishly, and not believing his luck to have her. "I will keep our little family safe. My two beautiful girls." And kissed them both on the cheeks.

After his wife and child went back to the livingroom, Mr Boekbinder turned and gazed back into the spare room in silence. A strange feeling crept up on him, as if something was missing, something important, but he couldn't recall what it was. When the moment finally passed, he went back to the BBC broadcast and left, locking the empty room behind him.

**2.**

"Right." The Master uttered, restraining himself and keeping his voice as calm and civilized as possible. They were inside the Tardis console room, whirling through the Timevortex towards their new destination.

"As soon as this thing lands, I'm gone." He stated boldly. It wasn't the first time that he had threatened to leave. The atmosphere had been quite tense between the two Timelords ever since they left Wilf and Wessick's lane behind.

"No you're not." Doctor glared at him from the other side of the consoles. From the Tardis core, a green glow was cast over the Doctor's face, making him look all too unforgiving.

"You can't keep me here. I won't allow myself to be chained up to you forever like some mongrel dog." The Master replied, disgusted by the very prospect.

"You lost the right to leave when you took a life."

The Master gazed away. "She wasn't exactly mother Theresa."

"She was harmless." The Doctor replied, finding it unacceptable that the Master was still trying to make up excuses for himself.

"Oh come on, as if you have never killed before! What's one life in a thousand? I saved a whole population of your pet humans from an alien invasion."

"The way you think, that's exactly why I should keep you here with me." The Doctor said, glaring up at him with determination burning in his eyes. "I wasn't there to correct you when you started out on Gallifrey. But I'm here now. And I will do all that I can, just to keep you from making the same horrible mistakes again."

"Oh the glorious righteous Doctor." The Master laughed harshly, leaning towards him over the consoles. "You know what. You make me sick." He said, hissing like a spiteful serpent that had been grabbed by the tail.

The Doctor wasn't impressed. "Sometimes you have to get a little worse before you can get any better." He whispered.

The Master leaned further forward on the console and slowly, slowly, counted back to ten.

"Tell me, where exactly are we going?" He finally managed to ask without screaming at the Doctor.

"Somewhere where we can help." The Doctor replied softly. It was a last minute chance of plans. At first, he wanted to bring the Master to some place safe and isolated. An old, out of service satellite, or an abandoned space colony orbiting some God-forsaken planet would have done perfectly as long as the two of them were left on their own. He realized that it was perhaps wrong to wish for something so horrible, but he actually longed for those peaceful days, when he had nurtured the unconscious Master back to health in the Tardis while it was circling around the remains of their dying home planet. His relationship with him was so much simpler back then. Now when he looked at him, he didn't know whether he should protect him, or treat him as a potential threat.

So the Doctor was actually relieved when the Tardis received the distress call. It gave him something to do and kept his mind from worrying too much. By the look of the fast-shifting coordinates of the source, the call was most likely coming from a ship. Maybe the vessel was set adrift after an engine failure, or the crew was being hunted down by rampaging alien monsters. It didn't matter. The Doctor just wanted to save a life. Anyone's life. He couldn't save senator Pompous and his daughter Dea, and after the strange, ominous message he had received, he wasn't so sure that he could save the Master from himself either.

The Doctor needed to make himself useful. What he needed was a big juicy catastrophe, a terrible imminent disaster that he could control, outwit and reverse. Anything that could prove to him that not everything was lost.

Not yet.

Reaching their destination, the Tardis landed with the usual series of bumps and shakes. Then the movement stopped and the green glow from the core slowly dimmed, casting a shadow over the console room.

"Right then." The Master said with a broad, fake grin, he waved carelessly. "Tah!"

The Master bolted for the Tardis doors, as long as he got rid of the Doctor, he wasn't giving a toss about what or whoever was out there. Surprisingly, the Doctor didn't come after him, but remained standing next to the Tardis console. Calmly, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

As soon as the Master put his hand on the door handle, an electric spark came off that made him recoil as if he had burned himself on a hot stove. His hand hurt, stung by hundreds of tiny little needles, and when he checked his palm, he noticed that it had been marked with the symbol of the Timelords. Horrified, he turned back to the Doctor.

Instead of saying a word, the Doctor just held up his right hand. A similar symbol marked his palm. He waved at the Master while a cheeky smile dawning on his lips.

The Master shot him a very foul look.

"I know, I know." The Doctor shushed, getting ahead of the Master's anger. "The Gallifreyian mind trap is a bit overdone, a bit of a cheap trick. But I got them lying around, so I thought, why not give them a try?"

"You vicious bastard." The Master hissed angrily. "You've set up a trap on the doors!"

"Yes, clever isn't it? Now we're psychologically linked." The Doctor replied calmly, ignoring the Master's outrage. "I can get inside your mind and stop you without so much as touching you with a finger."

"You're a bloody sadist." He accused him. "I've never done anything this cruel."

"Oh don't flatter yourself. You know you've done worse. Funny really how selective your memory can be sometimes. Still, no time to dwell on the past." The Doctor strolled towards the doors and with a gentle push, opened them wide for the Master.

"After you." The Doctor said, holding the door politely. He waited till the Master had strolled out of the console room in angry paces before heading out himself.

**3.**

The Tardis stood in the middle of a large cavernous cabin with white curved walls. White beams, about a whale-bone thick, arched towards a focal point in the high ceiling, creating the illusion that the Tardis had been swallowed by a synthetic version of Moby Dick. The floor was black as space itself, and shattered all over its shiny, reflective surface were trillions of pinpoint lights, which gave the resemblance of a constellation of stars.

"Where are we?" The Master asked. His voice sounded small and lost in the vast empty space that surrounded the visitors.

"I've absolutely no idea." The Doctor muttered with the beginning of a smile. He noticed that there were rows of tiny portholes on each side of the chamber and headed out for one of them. His lips curled into a little boy's grin when he noticed that the glittering dots in the ink-black surface pooling underneath his sneakers, making him leave a diamond trail of footsteps behind. It was like walking in a snowy landscape of stardust and it was absolutely beautiful.

"We're in space all right." The Doctor noted as he glanced through the fortified windowpane. "That's the icy constellation of Tood Pazarr over there." He pointed out and turned around. "Hello? Anyone on this ship? Anyone who needs my help?" He asked cheerfully.

"Is that what you do with all that time you've got when you're not making my life miserable? You go rush into strange places and shout like an idiot, begging people to _please_ allow you to help?" The Master snorted.

"Yep, that's what I do." The Doctor replied, ignoring the Master's sarcasm, he strolled around with his hands inside his pockets like he owned the place. "Anyone here?"

"You know, I'm so thrilled that I'm now stuck with you for the rest of my life. I've always wanted to experience the exciting life of a deranged social worker." The Master ridiculed while following the Doctor around.

"I've received your distress call!" The Doctor shouted to anyone who wanted to hear. "You've asked for help, so I'm here to help. Anyone?" The Doctor halted, looking puzzled. They had reached a row of doors. There were three of them, and unlike the rest of the room, which had no other colors than black or white, the doors were painted in vivid red.

"Anyone here?" The Doctor continued, feeling a bit left out in the cold. "By the way, did I mention that I was really rather good at helping people out?"

"Oh please, don't be pathetic." The Master muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Was worth a try." The Doctor muttered, turning his attention back to the blood-red doors. They were marked from 1 to 3 and a green light was lit above the first two, while above the third door, a red light was burning. Next to them, a fancy glass plaque was mounted on the wall. It was etched with a strange symbol, consisting of a triangle with in the middle the combined Greek letters alpha and omega.

"Welcome to Infinity Corporation, where the future is now." The Doctor read, cocking his eyebrows. "Funny tagline. Wonder what they're selling."

"I could do with some extra time." The Master remarked. "I've surely wasted enough by following you around."

"Oh don't be clever." The Doctor commented. He moved over to the console station that was also white, and fashionably shiny and curvy, with very buttons.

"Oh look at that!" The Doctor exclaimed. "Design technology. I love that." He said with a silly little grin. "It's not as good as tinkering with the real bolts and pieces but I do appreciate that someone spent a great deal of thought on making a lever in the shape of a swan's neck."

"How truly elegant. I'm impressed." The Master deadpanned.

"This whole thing only has four controls." The Doctor continued enthusiastically. "Can you imagine that on the Tardis? My crash rates would hit the roof!"

"As opposed to the current experience, in which every trip is like a peaceful stroll down the park." The Master muttered, finding it continuously harder to bring up more patience for the Doctor's foolishness. "Look, if you can't find anyone around to save, can we just bugger off before we start to gather dust here?"

The Doctor sighed. "Oh I do miss Wilf. He was always asking the right questions. He would have loved this. A great new adventure. A grand new horizon to explore. People to rescue. You just sulk and moan all the time."

"To be honest, I miss Wilf too, he might be a demented old fool, but at least what he said sort of made sense, unlike your incessant drivels. Now please, can we get the hell out of this place?" The Master hissed through clenched teeth.

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly fell silent. Slowly, he turned around, casting his eyes over the line of blood-red doors before returning back to the console. He left a strange motion brush pass him, a shiver of a passing train. Something that was not visible to the naked eye.

The Doctor put his finger on his lips and shushed. "There is someone here in the room with us."

**4.**

Rachel Boekbinder stared at the blue luminous being in front of her, her young face showing much puzzlement.

"What do you mean, there is someone here?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder nervously. "I can't see anybody here. We are the only ones in the cabin."

Alpha-Omega slowly shook her head. At least Rachel thought of the strange alien creature as a she. She found it difficult to tell. Alpha-Omega had a head, arms, and legs and a torso, and from a distance, her shape would resemble that of a human. However, instead of solid flesh, her whole body seemed to be made out of a dazzling blue ocean of light that shifted and changed every time that Rachel looked at her. The light creature had large eyes that were as black as sin, and although she was capable of speech, Alpha-Omega seemed to have no mouth. If anyone from Rachel's world and time had encountered her, it would have certainly startled them a great deal. But Rachel was not afraid of Alpha-Omega. She had been in this quiet and strange white place for quite a while now, and after all this time, she had learned to trust her.

Alpha-Omega pointed at the console. "There are three of us." She said in a gentle voice. "There used to be one."

"You mean there are two others except for me?" Rachel noted cleverly. "Why are you always not counting yourself in? I hate it when you pretend that there is no-one else in this place but me."

"There are three of us now." She repeated.

Rachel shook her head, getting more worried. "That's not true."

"You should hide."

"What do you mean? I don't want to hide."

"Choose one of the doors."

The little girl's mood lightened up a little. "You let me choose? Are you sure?"

"Choose one of the doors."

"I pick number three." Rachel said without a moment of hesitation. She studied Alpha-Omega's face closely. As always, she couldn't detect a trace of emotion visible on her alien face.

"Choose again." Alpha-Omega said, after a short pause.

"That's not fair! You said I could choose for myself. I want to go into room number three!"

"Door number three is locked. You may not enter room number three. Choose again."

"I want to know what's inside! Look, you've kept me in this floating room for a very long time now. I want to go home!"

"The Infinity has kept you safe."

"You keep saying that. I don't even know what that means." Rachel blurted, getting close to tears. "I want to go home. I want to see mom and dad."

"You can see them by going through door 1 or 2."

"Yes, but that's not the same, is it?" Rachel replied with tears running down her cheeks. "Is that what's behind door number three? A way to get back home? Is that why I'm not allowed to go in there?"

"You can choose between door number 1 and 2." Alpha-Omega replied in a gentle, but persistent voice.

"I-"

"You can choose between door number 1 and 2." Her blue guardian pressed on.

Rachel gazed at those strange dark eyes. Realizing that she couldn't convince her, she brushed the tears from her face with the back of her sleeves and took in a deep, ragged breath.

"I want to go back to how it was." She replied softly.

**5.**

The first red door from the right suddenly slid open, and a bright blue light burst into the white chamber.

"What did you do?" The Master asked, furrowing his brows.

"Nothing!" The Doctor held up both his hands. "Didn't touch any of it."

"Must have been that invisible ghost you've been moaning about." The Master scoffed. He walked towards the doorway. A soft, cool breeze entered the room and he could pick up the distinctive scent of wet pavement and freshly mown grass.

"What is this?" He muttered. 'Where does this come from?"

A massive magnetic field of energy was rapidly building up inside the chamber, creating a giant sphere of heat and light that crackled with powerful bolts. Mesmerized by the raw beauty of it, The Master stretched out his hand, reaching out for that strange blue light.

A shiver ran over his skin when he felt something rush by him, heading straight into the portal. When it bumped into the energy field it distorted the light, creating the rippling shape of a child, before it was engulfed by the chaotic mass and disappeared.

The Master turned to the Doctor. "Did you…" But before he could finish his sentence, the red door closed again, hiding its secrets behind it. The Master stared at the security light above the door and noticed that how the signal flashed from green into red.

**6.**

"Now you believe me?" The Doctor said. "There was someone or something in this room, and it went right in there." He pointed at door number 1. "We have to find out who or what it is." He started immediately tinkering with the controls.

"What? Why would you want to do that?"

"Distress call, remember. We're here because someone wanted us to be here."

"This could be just a trap to lure innocent travellers." The Master muttered.

"Oh ye of little faith." The Doctor sighed under his breath. He kept pushing the few buttons that were available to him until a holovid screen suddenly flashed on.

"There! Now that we have visual, let see if we can get the sound working." The Doctor hit a button cleverly designed like a water molecule twice and the sound of static switched on. Then a dramatic tune blasted through invisible speakers, and the logo of Infinite Corp. came up on the 3D screen.

"Could you at least skip the intro?" The Master asked impatiently. "What's next? Commercials for painkillers and fabric softeners?"

Alpha-Omega's face appeared on screen. Her large, black eyes studied the two Timelords with calculative serenity.

"Welcome on board of the Infinity." She said in a friendly voice. "How may we serve?"

"That's the most delightful thing I've heard since I started travelling with you." The Master murmured, looking pleasantly surprised.

"We're looking for someone onboard of this ship. Someone who could have possibly send out a distress call." The Doctor explained. "Can you give me more information about the crew?"

"Crew number onboard of the Infinity. Zero. Checking ship's log….Distress calls made since the beginning of voyage 1377…Zero."

"But there was someone inside this cabin. Someone small, possibly a child, who ran right into that room over there! Can't that be the one who sent out the call?"

"There are no crewmembers. There were no distress calls made."

"Oh that's just absolute nonsense!" The Doctor objected, wrinkling up his nose.

"Are you finished arguing with the onboard computer?" The Master asked in a sarcastic voice. But the Doctor wasn't finished.

"You know, if you can't do your job right, they should replace you with a more up to the standard model." The Doctor huffed. "I asked two questions, and you have answered them both wrong. That's a 100% fail. Hardly acceptable for a very expensive piece of designer equipment, won't you agree?"

The Master sighed and slipped his hand inside the Doctor's pocket to fish out the sonic.

"It wouldn't be so bad if you would say something worth listening to once in a while." The Master muttered, shaking his head slowly. "Even if it's only once or twice a year, at the Eve of Lamentation, or at Midsummer Consolations. But you don't. You just drivel endlessly."

Before the Doctor could take back his sonic screwdriver, the Master had already aimed it on the holovid, scrambling the visual display back into its bare coding. He immediately started to decipher them once they appeared on the screen.

"Hey! Stop that!" The Doctor urged, sternly.

But the Master didn't listen. He was most confident that he was close to getting the doors unlocked.

"I said stop it!"

A sharp pain blasted through the Master's head, blinding him for a moment. He dropped the sonic and backed away from the screen before shooting a vindictive glance at the Doctor.

The Doctor picked up the sonic and put it back inside his breast pocket.

"Are you all right?" He asked, truly shaken by what had happened to him. He knew what the mind trap could do. It was the very reason why he had used it to keep the Master in check in the first place. But seeing it actually _hurting_ him was something else entirely.

"You shouldn't have taken my sonic screwdriver. It's one of the first things I've secured against you." He noticed the furious look on the Master's face.

"I didn't do this on purpose…It was the mind trap. It just went off."

The Master needed a deep breath to push back the pain and calm down. "Oh that serves me just right." He grinned sarcastically. "For trying to help!" He sneered back at him.

He recoiled when a second blast struck him, but this time, it wasn't the short sting that he associated with the fire-back mechanism of the mind trap. It was something far more violent.

The blue mass of formless energy that he had seen inside the first chamber was now inside his head, creating a mind storm, and the savage power of it was tearing his neurons apart. Shielding his head with his arms, he uttered a scream and sunk to his knees.

"Master!" The Doctor rushed over, but the Master couldn't see him. In his mind's eye, he was no longer inside the white washed room onboard of the Infinity. He was somewhere on Earth, in a street, an ordinary street, with trees, and cars, and people. He looked around. He was standing on wet pavement, looking at a group of young children who were playing catch on a long stretch of lawn. The grass was so impossibly green that it hurt his eyes, just to look at it. A little girl in a white dress with a head full of bouncy curls spotted him.

"I don't remember you." She said, coming over to him while furrowing her little brows. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" She asked strictly.

"I…" He looked into that bright young face, those big, questioning eyes, and he just forgot what he was about to say.

"Don't you have a name?" She asked.

The Master opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't even recall his own name.

The little girl shook her head in pity. "Did you get so scared of the bombing that you forgot?"

"No…No…." The Master licked his lips nervously. "I do know my name. It's….I'm sorry, it's right there….on the tip of my tongue."

"It's all right. It happens sometimes." The girl took his hand. "You shouldn't be here. These are the Jewish quarters." She pointed at the yellow star of David that was sewn on her sleeve. "If the German soldiers see you talking to a Jew, they will hurt you or take you away."

"Where should I go?" He asked, confused.

"I know the way out." She smiled kindly at him, and took his hand. "Come then, I will show you the way back."

**7.**

"Master? Master, are you all right?"

He opened his eyes and stared right into the Doctor's concerned face.

"Yeah. I guess so." He muttered, struggling back up. He glanced around. He was back inside the white cabin again, and the little girl's world was quickly fading from his memories. "What happened?"

"The energy overflow that you created while you were trying to unlock the system hit you. Kicked back like an angry mule. If it wasn't for Rassilon's little gift, you would have regenerated on the spot." The Doctor answered while helping him up.

"Stop reminding me of that bastard." The Master murmured. He had trouble trying to keep standing. The Doctor took his arm to steady him, but the Master brushed his hand away. He had not yet forgiven him for tricking him with the vicious mind-trap.

They returned to the console. The holovid was no longer scrambled, but now showed the 3D version of the company's logo, rotating against a blue background. When the Master moved closer to the console, his hand accidentally brushed over the side of the screen, causing it to flicker.

To the Master's astonishment, the blue computer host reappeared, and started to address him personally.

"Welcome onboard of the Infinity, lord Master."

"Hang on. Did you call me…lord Master?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes lord Master. How may we serve you?"

A moment of realization, then a wide grin appeared on the Master's face. "Oh, I love to hear someone saying that."

"You cracked it." The Doctor said, perplexed. "You've cracked the system." The Doctor checked the parameters that scrolled over the screen. "It must have been the energy surge. Somehow your DNA profile got transferred to the computer's software by accident, and for some reason it has accepted it as a part of its own coding. But this is absolutely _fascinating_…It has not only used your DNA sequence as a login password, it has also just used it to rewrite its own program within a couple of seconds. Oh that's amazingly clever!"

"For pity's sake, please shut up." The Master sighed. He turned to their virtual host. "Computer, I want you to inform me what is behind those doors."

"Choose one of the doors." Alpha-Omega answered.

The Master smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. This could be interesting. "What about number one?"

"It contains all that you were."

"What?" The Master laughed. "Could you please be more specific?"

"It contains all that you were."

"Well, that's hardly helpful." The Master scoffed.

"You may have unlocked it, but it isn't exactly thinking for itself." The Doctor mumbled, still checking the vital numbers. "If anything, the interaction matrix seems to be rather restrictive for such an advanced-looking spaceship."

"Let me try something else." The Master turned back to address her. "Tell me, what's behind door number two?"

"It contains all that you could have been."

"It contains…._all_…that I could have been?" The Master repeated sceptically.

"Correct."

The Master pulled a face. "That's rather pretentiously philosophical, isn't? And what about door number three?"

"Door number three is locked. You may not choose door number three."

"Well, can't I unlock it?"

"No. Door number three is locked and will remain so. You may not choose door number three."

The Master grinned, finding it all too weird. "Right, so your company took the effort of placing three doorways onboard of this otherwise empty spaceship, and you're offering me the choice to select one of them, but you're keeping one locked under all circumstances. What kind of logic is that? Why not build only two chambers instead of three and save yourself the effort? What is this, some psychological test for trust and obedience?"

"In which case you will fail, miserably." The Doctor muttered, and leaned closer him "Ask the computer to open door number 1. We need to find out who went in there."

"Ask it yourself." The Master huffed.

"I would if it listened it me, but it doesn't." The Doctor said, giving the Master a look.

"Computer." The Master sighed. "We want to enter room number 1."

"Room number one is occupied." Alpha-Omega answered calmly.

"Well we don't want to overcrowd the place of course, The Master replied sarcastically. "Shall we say we pick number two? It sounds more promising anyway."

"Don't be silly. She didn't say that we couldn't enter. It just said that it was occupied. Try again."

"I'm not your servant you know." The Master grumbled with a disdainful look on his face, but still he turned to computer. At least he could order her around successfully.

"Open door number 1."

"The room is occupied." Alpha-Omega repeated.

"I don't care. Open it." He said sternly.

There was a short pause as the computer ran through her database to calculate the other options she had left to enable her to refuse the Master's order. She eventually came to the conclusion that she could not disobey, and door number one slid open, letting the dazzling blue light stream into the chamber once more.

The two Timelords stood before the swirling blue ocean of violent energy and waited. Neither of them had any idea what to expect of this.

"After you." The Doctor finally said.

The Master glanced over his shoulder at the holovid. The description of Alpha-Omega for room number one was still puzzling his mind. After a short moment of hesitation, he turned around and stepped bravely through the doorway.

**8.**

The doorway opened into a long, cavernous hallway corridor with dark stone walls. Cut out in the niches were statues of men dressed in long ceremonial robes. The strange headwear and shoulder armor looked very familiar to both Timelords.

However impossible it may be, these statues were of Gallifreyan origin.

They made their way further down the corridor, and as the Master and the Doctor took up more and more of their surroundings, they soon started to recognize the marble faces on the statues. There was Rowana, the first Lady Chancellor in her most beautiful incarnation, and Maxillius the Castellan, the fierce commander of the chancellery guard, whose merciless gaze marked him throughout all of his 13 incarnations. And behind them, standing as tall and dignified as both of them remembered, were the statues of the founding fathers of the six Chapters of the Academy. The statues of their elders lined the entire corridor till up the east wing buildings.

"I remember this. This is the grand hallway." The Doctor muttered. "We're in the Academy on Gallifrey."

"But…that's impossible." The Master responded. "That place is gone. How could a portal on a spaceship bring us to a place that no longer exists?"

"Remember what our host said. Door number one contains all that you were." The Doctor pointed out. "In your case that must be all of this, the Academy on Gallifrey, back when we were both still children. The door has opened up a portal into your past." The Doctor furrowed his brows, starting to look rather worried as the possible consequences hit him. He swirled around. "Actually, we have to go back before anyone sees us!"

"Well, aren't you fickle, just a minute ago you were ordering me around to pick out the right door for you. Aren't you happy with your choice?" The Master mocked, not without delight.

"Oh this is no times for jokes. Being here is dangerous!" The Doctor snapped. "You know that well enough! One look of our younger selves at what we have become and history can be completely rewritten. Not to mention the whole time-paradox-crisis we'll be creating."

"Please let Pyronius forbid, of course we never had that before." The Master replied dryly.

"I can't find the portal! It's vanished!" Doctor took out his sonic, and aimed it at the spot in front of the statue of the Rector Magnificus where the doorway had been. He whizzed it around nervously. "A little help?" He urged.

"Oh look at you, acting like a rabbit trapped in a fox hole." Master said in an amused voice while folding his arms over his chest. Of course he was not even thinking about lending him a hand.

The Doctor stopped scanning when he picked up the sound of footsteps and the chime of little bells, heading for their direction.

"We have to hide!" The Doctor whispered urgently, and pulled the rather reluctant Master behind a column.

A progression of Timelord elders was on its way to the west wing chambers. Luckily, they didn't need to pass their section of the hallway, and the Doctor and the Master remained unnoticed. The Doctor studied the cardinals as they passed by. They were all dressed in bright ceremonial robes, each in the color of their Chapters. The two cardinals of the Prydonian Chapter were leading the way, wearing their scarlet robes with great pride and dignity. They walked by the side of a young boy, who was also dressed in a scarlet robe, signifying that he was a novice from the same Chapter.

"An initiation ceremony." The Doctor whispered. "They must be heading to the dark vaults of Cold Lamentation." He caught sight of the young novice's face, and immediately froze, unable to take his eyes off him. A surge of panic struck his hearts.

The Master gazed at the eight year old who looked both incredibly proud and absolutely terrified at the same time. His breath caught when he realized who the little boy was.

"That's me." The Master whispered, stunned. "This is my initiation day."

"Master." The Doctor gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just leave. You shouldn't be here watching this."

The Doctor grabbed his arm but the Master pulled away without looking at him. He kept staring at his younger self.

"I still remember it." He said softly. "I was so looking forward to that moment, couldn't even sleep of excitement the night before because I had all those mad stories of old master Azmael in my head. I kept imagining what I would see in the Untempered Schism, all those wonderful things that would inspire me to greatness." The melancholic smile on his lips turned to stone. "How stupid have I been to believe in those lies." He added bitterly.

"You don't have to do this." The Doctor tried.

"Koschei!"

A boy raced through the corridor. Tall for his age, and with his legs moving like elastic strings, he approached the ceremonial group with worry written all over his young face. The Doctor shot one look at him, and immediately turned and dived further behind the column. The young version of the Doctor ran pass him, seemingly unaware of his presence. But unlike the Doctor, the Master didn't budge, not only because he had less time to react, but also because he simply didn't give a toss about being seen by the others.

"Master! Watch out!" The Doctor yelled, fearing the worst, but instead of crashing into him, the Doctor saw his younger-self run right through the Master without so much as reducing speed. He passed through the other Timelords as if he was but thin air.

"Koschei, wait!" Theta shouted, waving frantically at his young friend.

That was rather unexpected.

"He doesn't…Well you don't seem to notice me, it's like I'm not even here." The Master realized.

"We…we might not be real for them." The Doctor said, slightly relieved.

"Not real? That's an understatement. We're like ghosts to them. And ghosts is what we are indeed." The Master added scornfully.

Ignoring the other Timelord's objections, he followed the young Doctor, who had stopped the procession dead in its tracks, a bold act that earned him much disapproving looks from the Timelord elders.

"That's right." The Master said, remembering the confusion of that moment. "You went after me after the elders took me from the dorm. It was absolutely against protocol to speak to the novice during the ceremony, but you didn't care."

"I was worried." The Doctor recalled the panic that he had felt, and experiencing the sheer horror of it as he was forced to watch it all unfold again, knowing what he knew now. "Master, we should really go." He repeated. He was deadly serious.

But the Master put his finger on his lips to tell the Doctor to keep his silence.

"Theta, what are you doing here?" Koschei asked, wondering if his friend had gone completely bonkers.

"I've been thinking….Maybe…Maybe you shouldn't…" Young Theta managed to utter while he was still trying to catch his breath like a fish stuck on dry land.

Koschei rolled his eyes. "I told you. It's all right. You just had a strange nightmare. That's all. Go back to the dorm. It's your turn soon enough."

"Young master Theta. You are holding up the procession!" One of the Prydonian elders said sternly.

"Please Koschei. Don't go in there. I have a very bad feeling about this." Theta pleaded.

"Oh don't be daft now. Almost everyone we know from our Chapter has already gone through it. Nothing happened to anyone of them." His friend replied.

"Young master Theta! I insist that you stop interrupting!" The elder ordered in a disdainful voice.

"It's okay." Koschei said as he tried to reassure him. "Go back to our room before the elders get angry with you."

The young novice was quickly led away, and the whole procession started to move again towards the initiation chamber, the vault of Cold Lamentation, where the mirror that looked into the Untempered schism was waiting. Theta followed Koschei, trying desperately to get to talk to him again, but the elders prevented that and pushed him out of their way.

Koschei glanced fleetingly over his shoulder, mouthing _Go back!_ to his worried friend before he too turned away.

"You knew." The Master muttered, realizing what he just had witnessed. "You tried to warn me about the Untempered schism. I thought you were mad when you tried to stop me from going into the initiation chamber. All this time…You knew…but…how?" The Master stared at the Doctor accusingly.

"How did you know about those cursed drums?"

The Doctor shook his head, confused by his own recollections of these events. "I had a hunch, just an awkward feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if something bad was going to happen. And right before your initiation, I had that nightmare, which didn't make any sense to me." The Doctor wet his lip. His eyes went wide in as he remembered.

"Oh but it didn't make any sense at that time, but it does, it does now." He rambled, swallowing hard and staring at the Master while he pulled his hair back nervously. "I saw you. Acting all insane and screaming, standing on that garbage mount in the outskirts of London, your body flashing back and forth from skeleton mode after you came back wrong. I remember it now. I saw your future and I was terrified. That's why I went after you."

The Master turned away, disgusted and shaken to the core by the revelation that his life could taken a different turn, if only he had listened to him.

"I'm sorry that I didn't try harder to stop them." The Doctor said with genuine regret. "If I had know how it would change you, what it would do to you, I would have tried. I would have tried everything."

"Well, why the hell didn't you?" The Master snapped back, his voice trembling with anger.

The Doctor was baffled by his open hostility. "Master. This, all of this, has already happened. It has passed, water under the bridge. Please let's head back. The longer we stay here, the more you'll hurt yourself by opening those old wounds again."

"He passed right through me." The Master noted, staying deceptively calm. But underneath, he was screaming.

"Yes he did. Which means that if you want to change anything, it's likely that it wouldn't even be possible." There. The Doctor said it. The first awful thing he could think of that could happen if he didn't get the Master out of here quick enough, and it actually worried him sick that he had to mention it to him while he was still visible shaken by the whole situation.

"Is that so?" The Master finally turned to look at him. The hurt was evident in his eyes, burning like two dark flames in his wounded soul. "Then there is obviously no risk in staying a little longer."

"Please, don't do this to yourself."

"Oh come on. We're like the audience to a bloody play here, and the actors don't seem to notice us, let alone that we would be able to rewrite the damned script, if that's your major concern."

"That's not the point." The Doctor lied.

A brief, burdened silence followed.

"I want to see my initiation." The Master finally said.

The Doctor shook his head. "You don't know what you're asking."

"I want to see, Doctor. Just once, without the madness clouding my judgment. I want to know how it happened."

He didn't say another word about it, but the Doctor knew that it was his way of pleading with him. The Master needed this to put the ghosts of his past behind, and the Doctor simply couldn't refuse. Not if he wanted to appease his own guilty conscience.

"We stay for the initiation." The Doctor agreed. "But we'll leave as soon it's over." He added strictly.

"That way." Master pointed out. As they made their way and followed the procession into the initiation chamber, the Doctor glanced behind and saw his 8 year old self staying behind. Defeated, kicking pebbles with his feet and hanging his head low, he shuffled back to the dorm. He suddenly realized that his own mood wasn't that much different from that of the young boy.

**9.**

Inside the Vaults of Cold Lamentation, darkness had ruled for such a long time that it had soaked deep into the thick ancient walls. A row of black marble pillars disappeared high in the darkness above, while a path lined by candles, guided the novice towards the ominous mirror, waiting for him at the end. The young Master glanced behind, visibly nervous. The elders returned a slight nod, encouraging him to move on.

The Master watched how the novice stopped in front of the large circular mirror. The seven Chapter elders were standing behind him, arranged in a triangular formation with the Prydonian elders up front.

"It is time." Spoke one of them. The front men raised their staffs high in the air, and slammed it hard on the flagstone floor. The others swiftly followed this ceremonial act. The ground beneath their feet started trembling, and distortions appeared in the center of the mirror, as if it was a liquid pool in which someone had thrown a pebble. They rippled outwards over the reflective surface and soon, the Master and his younger self could see past their own reflection and that of the chamber, and look into the open, bleeding wound of time itself.

The elders ceased, and the line of candles that flanked the path to circular mirror extinguished all at once.

Suddenly, there was nothing but darkness.

The young Master sucked in a deep breath. His hearts were racing, but he still found some courage left in him to keep standing where he was, ready to face his destiny. The old Master, who was almost as anxious as his younger self, also took in a deep breath of air, and waited for what he knew, was the inevitable.

The time vortex appeared. It started just as a tiny light, swirling in the liquid pool of darkness inside the mirror, but quickly it turned into the familiar spiral form, displaying an elegant dance of electrons and photons. It grew stronger and stronger…

The Master, who up until now, had been standing next to the Doctor at the back of the group, now slowly strolled forward towards the mirror. Like his younger self, he was mesmerized by the beautiful, frightening motion, that dazzling dream of light that beckoned him to come further and look.

"Don't go too near." The Doctor whispered.

The Master kept standing behind his younger self, the vortex first capturing his mind like a tender lover before it devoured him whole. He remembered how it felt, the first precious moments, before the drums. Such wonders he had seen. The delicate, secret workings of time, of creation itself. So much he had come to understand. Such wisdom he had received. It should have inspired him to do good. It should have ignited a new light in his hearts that would burn like a beacon of hope in dark, dark times. His whole life should have turned out differently. It should have been worthwhile…

Instead, he was cursed by the drums.

He knew that they had arrived by the change on the child's face. It was as if the sun was suddenly blocked out. Standing with his back to the others, the elders didn't notice that something was going wrong with the boy. The Master looked into the circular mirror, and saw, except for the haunted reflection of his younger self, no change in the time vortex itself.

So this is how it happened. Without a warning. Without a sound. A slow, merciless poisoning of the heart and mind. In that one small and insignificant moment, his entire life, which should have been wonderful and meaningful, was destroyed, and replaced by one of loneliness, suffering, madness and regrets.

There had been so many regrets.

An unwanted tear dripped down his chin. If only he had listened to the Doctor's warnings. If only he had not been chosen to stand in front of that cursed mirror on that one disastrous day. If only the elders, who were supposed to protect him, had intervened in time. Then none of this would have happened to him.

He wouldn't be_ him_. He wouldn't be the Master.

He stared into the mirror, and saw his own reflection slowly appearing behind his younger self. He looked like a bitter old man, imprisoned in an immortal body that was bestowed on him like a curse. His ancient eyes burnt cold with anger and doubt.

And then it struck him.

The eyes of his younger self grew wide in shock when he caught sight of the ominous dark figure standing behind him. He could not turn to see who it was, as he was chained to the vortex by the merciless drums. The little boy could do nothing to stop their assaults. He was helpless.

Unlike the Master.

He realized that he had only one chance. One try before the Doctor would stop him, but knowing what it would mean, what difference it would make in the young boy's life, he was ready to try everything, and risk the possible consequences.

One fair chance to set things right. That was all the Master asked.

He moved as fast as lightening. His hand reached out to one of the Prydorian elder's gilded staff, and he let a sigh of relief when his fingers actually touched the metal and wrapped around it. His presumptions turned out to be right. Their presence here was suffering a delay, which meant that their corporeal forms needed more time to take their proper places in this past timeframe. That's why the young Doctor could pass right through him. That's why the elders and his younger self could not see him.

But now, the transition was almost complete, and his and the Doctor's bodies were slowly, but definitely solidifying, which meant that he could manipulate all that was around him according the natural laws.

Including the hated mirror.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" The elder from whom he had just stolen the rod, gazed with much bafflement at the hazy figure that had suddenly materialized before him. The Master realized that he was quickly becoming visible for the others. There was no time left to waste. He turned back to the mirror and raised the staff if it was a javelin, and with it, he rushed towards the Untempered Schism.

"Master!" The Doctor yelled, realizing all too well what he was about to do.

"NO!"

He launched the staff at the mirror. His hands lost contact with the smoothness of the metal at the exact moment when a hot bolt of agony hit him as the mind trap was activated by the Doctor in an attempt to stop him.

Too late.

The rod hit the mirror surface, and the point of impact bloomed into a white spider web of cracks, seeping blinding light into the dark room. The window into the time vortex shattered, falling apart into a thousand shimmering pieces that burst into the chamber like a cloud of stardust.

And after that…everything changed.

**_TBC_**

**_Next chapter will be posted August the 14th. As always, comments and reviews are most welcome!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Once again, many thanks to Koscheithepianist and Edzel2 for beta-ing!**

**Chapter 2**

**1.**

Waking up somewhere and not knowing where you are is not a good way to start your day. The Doctor hated it, and it actually happened to him quite a lot. The mornings after frivolous Friday nights on his own used to be notorious. It didn't matter which regeneration he was in, he never held his liquor very well. But there were worse things than not knowing where you are, as the Doctor experienced right now as he opened his eyes and woke up to a black sky of shattered stars. He rose up slowly, his hands sinking away in the soft sand, that itself resembled silver grains of stardust. He brushed the sand from his cheeks, looked around, and wondered where the heck he had ended up. A landscape of silver dunes stretched out before him till the far horizon. Above him, a dome of distant stars, circulating around a strange and unfamiliar sun. The thin atmosphere of the planet made the sky appear purple.

So far nothing remarkable. But then it hit him.

He couldn't remember how he got here.

Something was not quite right. Alarmed, the Doctor tried to focus on what he could remember, but it was as if someone, in his absence, had punched holes into his memories and erased parts of it at random, just for the fun of it. He could remember that he was the Doctor, and that he was a Timelord, the last of his kind. He could recall the Time war and Gallifrey, his numerous companions, all clever, faithful and wonderful, each a shining beacon in his existence that was otherwise bleak and miserable and frightening. Rose…

He could remember Rose. His hearts ached for a moment. He shook his head and pushed the painful memory of her as far inside him as possible.

Martha, Donna, Wilf….He met Wilf last Christmas. He had asked him for help. Something to do with that prophecy, revealed to him by Carmen after they had safely returned from the planet of the Tritovors. He will knock four times, she had said. It is returning. Returning through the dark.

"What? What is returning through the dark?" The Doctor muttered in frustration and clutched his head. Although there was of course the possibility that he simply couldn't recall the meaning of the prophecy because it had not happened to him yet, there was also this strange feeling of déjà vu, that told him that it wasn't so. He was missing information, suffering from some form of selective amnesia, however cliché and pathetic it may sound, and it irritated and worried the hell out of him.

"This is ridiculous." He muttered to himself, kicking the sand around. "I can't remember where I parked the Tardis. I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning." He started pacing around, hands waving frantically in the air. He had the God-awful feeling that he was missing something important.

"Think brains, think!" He ordered, tapping his fingers repeatedly at the side of his head. "What am I missing here? Is it a companion?" His hearts froze at the very idea. He didn't leave Wilf behind, did he? The image of Wilf standing at the door of his daughter's house in Wessex Lane came up and the Doctor breathed out a sigh of relief. No, it wasn't Wilf.

"Then could it be Donna?" He asked out-loud, but as soon as he questioned this possibility, his failing memory coughed up the image of his fiery red-head companion, being carried away from danger in a train carriage leaving a London station. No Donna was safe too. "Well then, if it isn't her. Who is it?" The Doctor yelled, getting angry with himself. "Who did you forget and why?"

It was of course, a rhetorical question, but others had heard the Doctor. They had been waiting, buried underneath the sand during the heat of the day when the sun was ruling mercilessly over the surface of the silver planet, but now that sun was setting, they stirred easily from their sleep. An eyestalk slowly rose up from the sand. Blinking twice, it zoomed in on the lonely figure marching from left to right, and studied with growing interest how the stranger vented out his frustrations up to the sky.

Somewhere, deep inside the tangled mess of wires and nerves, an alarm signal went off.

"WHO?"

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks. That metal voice, cold and monotonous, devoid of any human emotion, it brought a cold shiver down his spine. A metal object, dome-shaped and gilded, its metal armor glittering in the sun, rose slowly out of the sand.

"WHO ARE YOU?" It asked. No, ordered. "IDENTIFY YOURSELF!"

The Doctor stared at the Dalek with an expression of horror washing over his face. "What? What are you doing here?"

"SILENCE! WE ASK THE QUESTIONS!" The Doctor took a few steps back when two other Daleks emerged from the sand. Their eyesockets widened as they observed the Timelord.

"Oh I should have known! Dalek Caan had it wrong. There's never going to be such a thing as the end of everything Dalek." The Doctor hissed. "You guys just keep coming back like a very bad ulcer on the back of your feet."

"WHO ARE YOU? HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT DALEK CAAN?"

"Who am I?" The Doctor blurted. "Why, don't you know? Don't you recognize me? Tell me, how long has it been since I fought you and your creator Davros? How long ago was it that me and my brave companions burnt down your entire Armada fleet at the Medusa Cascade and destroyed your dreams of a Dalek empire?" The Doctor said, standing tall and furious.

"DO YOU RECOGNIZE THIS INFORMATION?" The superior Dalek asked the Dalek soldier next to him.

"NEGATIVE. NO DATA ON THESE EVENTS HAVE BEEN STORED INSIDE OUR COMMUNAL DATABASE."

"What? You didn't remember any of that?" The Doctor responded with real disappointment. "What about the Dalek emperor?" He tried, less certain now. "Can you remember me fighting him on satellite five? And the war between the Daleks and the Cybermen? The Genesis Ark? And you lot showing up in Manhattan turning everybody into pigslaves? Does any of that ring a bell?"

"THERE ARE NO RECORDS OF ANY OF THOSE EVENTS THAT HE DESCRIBES." The Dalek soldier reported to the others.

"Blimey, and here I was, thinking that I was making quite an impression. This seriously teaches me to be humble." The Doctor muttered, rubbing his eyes in slight embarrassment.

"CONDUCT BODY SCAN!" One of the Daleks ordered. The Doctor shielded his face when the purple beam hit him. He narrowed his eyes against the harsh light, while the laser kept scanning him from his spiky hair to the very tips of his sneakers.

"Hey! Stop that." The Doctor chuckled, and wriggled his body in weird angles. "That really tickles!"

But the Dalek soldier didn't stop till he had extracted all the necessary information from the stranger. "BODY SCAN COMPLETE." He finally stated.

"REPORT!" Ordered his superior.

"INTRUDER IS CATALOGUED AS A CARBON-BASED DEOXYTIBONUCLEIC ACID IMPRINTED LIFEFORM, RACE RECOGNIZED AND INDENTIFIED AS TIMELORD."

The Dalek superior widened his telescopic eye in alarm.

"Finally." Mumbled the Doctor, interpreting the uber-Dalek's reaction as fear. And rightfully so.

"He's right you know." He nodded. "I am a Timelord. Not just any, but the last. I am a survivor. And although my people have scarified everything but have not succeeded, and I am but on my own, mark on my word ….Just me, is enough to stop you. All of you." He said threateningly.

"YOU'RE NOT THE LAST."

"No matter how big your army is, or how stupendously large your fleet, I'll…" The Doctor halted and stared at the murderous pepper pots with raised brows. "Hang on…Excuse me…but…what?"

"YOU ARE NOT ALONE."

"Ah.. a friend said that to me once, turned out to be a total disaster. To be honest, I'm not a big fan of prophecies. I mean, it's never something nice, is it? It's never gonna be a prediction about how you'll end up living happily ever after, that sort of thing. No, it's always something nasty, the death of someone you love, or the destruction of one thing or the other." He looked worriedly at the Dalek. "You're not one of those mad, seeing into the future tin cans, are you?"

"YOUR WORDS DO NOT MAKE ANY SENSE. YOUR INFORMATION IS NOT RATIONAL."

"Ha! Is there anything rational about the Dalek mind then?" The Doctor sneered, getting impatient. "Tell me. Why am I not alone?"

"YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY TIMELORD IN EXISTENCE."

"I'm not?" The expression Doctor's face was one of incredulity. "And why would I believe you?"

"IF YOU WERE TRULY THE LAST, WE WOULD EXTERMINATE YOU IMMEDIATELY, AND THEN AT LAST, THE DALEKS WILL FINALLY RULE SUPREME!" Exclaimed the superior Dalek.

"THE DALEKS RULE SUPREME! THE DALEKS RULE SUPREME!" The other two cheered in repetition.

"Dalek logic, no way in beating that." The Doctor sighed, keeping a worried eye on their guns.

"WHAT IS HIS RANK?" The superior Dalek inquired.

"HE HAS NO RANK. THERE IS NO INFORMATION ABOUT HIM IN THE DATABASE. MUST BE A CIVILIAN." Answered the first Dalek soldier.

"HE IS OUTSIDE OF THE PROTECTION ZONE." Reported the second.

The superior Dalek turned towards the Doctor. "THEN YOU HAVE VIOLATED THE TREATY OBLIGATION OF NON-COLONIZATION IN ALL INTERGALICTIC GRAY ZONES."

"Come again…I've violated what?" The Doctor muttered, his eyes wide in astonishment.

"YOU ARE TEREFORE NO LONGER PROTECTED BY THE SAXON COVENANT AS ENTERED BETWEEN THE TIMELORD AND DALEK NATIONS." The superior Dalek continued relentlessly.

"I'm sorry, but why does the world suddenly stop making sense to me? In other words, why can't I understand a word you're saying?"

"YOU SHALL BE REMOVED FROM THE GRAY ZONE IMMEDIATELY. YOU SHALL BE EXTERMINATED."

"Ah…that last bit I did pick up." The Doctor backed away as the Daleks lined up and aimed their guns at him. They fired without a warning, and a laser blast hit the ground, only an inch away from his white sneakers. Realizing that this was not the time for more chitchat with his archenemies, the Doctor turned around and ran.

He ran over the sliver planes of shifting sand, followed on his heels by the troop of murderous Daleks flying right after him. Reaching the foot of a 12 meter high dune, the Doctor struggled to climb up, but kept slipping back as the crumbly steps disintegrated beneath his feet. The Daleks fired, and blasts of heated silver dust exploded in his face. He lost his balance and slipped all the way down on his side to the bottom of the dune where the three Daleks were waiting, their minds set on murder.

The superior Dalek moved forward, his eyepiece narrowed as he took one last look at the stranger. "EXTERMINATE HIM!"

The guns began to power up and glowed threateningly. The Doctor shielded his face with his arms and was waiting for the inevitable, when a crossfire of green lasers ambushed the Daleks.

Sparks flew around when one of the Dalek soldier's laser beam was diverted form course, and shattered the Dalek Superior's eyepiece.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING? I'VE LOST MY VISUAL INPUT!" The Dalek Superior spun around, waving his lasergun in horror and confusion.

Humanoids appeared. They had been hiding, their bodies covered underneath the capes of their desert robes at the foot of the dunes. Scarves covered their mouth and noses. They had ink-black skin and a bald scalp that shone in the starlight, and their eyes burnt bright like cateyes, two dark eclipses shimmering in amber. As soon as they appeared out of the sand they draw their swords, with blades curved like the crescent moon and so incredibly thin that they were almost translucent, and with one swift swoop the Dalek lasergun flew in the air, sliced off clean from the metal stalk with the same ease as slicing through an apple.

"EXERMINATE THEM! THEY ARE THE ENEMIES OF THE DALEKS AND MUST BE DESTROYED!" The superior Dalek ordered blindly.

The Doctor stared at the deadly chaos, and witnessed how the Dalek superior spun around in panic, firing at random and hitting very little. He saw how the humanoids surrounded the disarmed Dalek and cut with their laser swords through the metal casing, while inside the true Dalek creature screamed before it was finally stopped by a slash of the blade. The second, unharmed Dalek soldier kept firing. His laser hit a humanoid in the chest, and he dropped on his knees, his skeleton flashing as he fell. Another warrior, hit in the skull, who spun around by the impact before dropping in the sand dead. Still they kept coming. Finally, the last Dalek Dalek left standing found itself surrounded, and the group of angry aliens raised their swords and hacked down, cutting into the Dalek armor, and didn't stop when their blades reached Dalek flesh.

The Doctor saw this all happen, and was absolutely horrified.

"WHAT"S HAPPENING? REPORT! REPORT!" Shouted the superior Dalek. A humanoid warrior cut off its lasergun. Blind and unable to defend itself, it kept spinning around in panic as the humanoids closed in.

"No! Stop! Don't kill him!" The Doctor scrambled up but a hand pushed him back. A humanoid removed his scarf from his head, and gazed him right in the eyes while he pointed his sword at him.

"Who are you?" The warrior enquired, watching him carefully.

"I am the Doctor." The Doctor answered, keeping an eye at the threatening glowing edge.

The warrior studied him. "I'm Dashan from the Nomad tribe. Be careful how you answer me, but tell me the truth. Are you a friend of the Daleks?"

The Doctor stared back at humanoid. "No, I'm not." He finally said.

For a moment the humanoid warrior didn't react, but kept watching the stranger with his cateyes flashing with a mad kind of intelligence. Just when the Doctor began to expect the worse, a smile split his black face and he lowered his sword. He stuck out his large callous hand. "Then you are a friend of mine." He said and pulled the Doctor back on his feet before turning to his troops while raising his sword in the sky. "This man is a friend of the Nomads!" He proclaimed. His followers cheered and punched the air with their crescent weapons. The Doctor sighed, realizing that he was safe.

At least for now.

"Wait a minute. The Nomads. Oh I've read about you." The Doctor said, recalling his vast knowledge of his universe. "You are the inhabitants of the silver desert planet people can survive on one of the driest and most hostile planets in the whole galaxy."

"We are survivors. Rebels against the hated Dalek invasion." Dashan replied. "We've survived everything, including the destruction of our home planet by these metal devils." He stared hatefully at their Dalek prisoner.

"What are you going to do to him?" The Doctor asked.

"The same what he would do to us, if he had the chance." Dashan signaled to his men, and the Nomad soldiers pierced the armor of the Dalek superior, cutting away the metal casing. The Dalek inside screamed in horror.

"Wait! Don't! Don't kill him!" The Doctor said, equally horrified, but the men weren't listening, intoxicated by the violence and the prospect of taking revenge, they wrecked the Dalek shield and exposed the screaming Dalek inside. A pink, weak little creature with its nerve endings melted into the now useless wirings of its metal armor, looked at the Doctor with his single eye white rimmed with fear.

The Nomad rebels tore with brute force the wriggling creature out of its metal coffin, separating flesh and muscle from metal. Their victim uttered a blood-chilling scream when the enraged crowd literally tore his body into pieces.

The Doctor turned away from the savage scene, trying to shut out what was happening around him.

Afterwards, the Nomads took the mutilated Dalek corpses and pierced them on top of high poles to be paraded in front of the troop. They collected their fallen comrades from the sandplanes, and wrapped them in their desert capes. After their eyes were ceremonially closed by Dashan, they were hoisted on the backs of the men and were carried away.

"Are you coming with us Doctor?" Dashan asked. He sat on a rock facing the large bonfire that the men had made, and was polished his blade on a piece of Dalek shield. "These planes are treacherous. Filled with Dalek scorpions in hiding. You won't last another day on your own."

The Doctor fixed a firm look on the black-faced warrior and said nothing.

"You're disgusted by our ways." Dashan grinned. "I can see it on your face. Only you are too polite to say a word about it." He rose up and placed his sword back in its shaft. "I appreciate that." He glanced over his shoulders at his men, who were celebrating their bloody victory by throwing whatever was left of their Dalek enemy's armor into the bonfire.

"The Daleks have pushed our race to the brink of extinction." Dashan said. "There is nothing left of our once great civilization. The cities of Keanu, Bishua, and Mordon, once jewels of the silver dessert, have been reduced to dust. The great northern oasis, vaporized by the Dalek devils nuclear attacks. What's left of us is merely trying to survive."

"I'm sorry." The Doctor told him quietly.

"We're not monsters Doctor." Dashan replied. "Although the circumstances have forced us to act like the very beasts that we're trying to fight, I still remember the wisdom of my forefathers. And in my culture, it is very impolite to leave a friend behind." He gazed at the Doctor and smiled expectantly.

**2.**

They reached the Nomad's base-camp at midnight. It was no more than a small huddle of tents, half buried underneath the shifting sands. A small group of women and children were waiting for them. As soon as they saw the men approach, they rushed towards them and welcomed them back with tears and kisses. The bodies of the four fallen comrades were taken away by their family, who mourned their passing with a quiet dignity. Dashan told the Doctor that they were going to be buried in sacred ground the following morning. The hated Dalek devils weren't that lucky. The children spat on their corpses. The women lit up a great fire in the middle of their primitive camp, and to the Doctor's disgust, they started to roast the Dalek remains above the flames like they were roasting a couple of chickens for Sunday lunch.

"Our recourses are limited. We're not wasting anything or else we'll starve." Dashan explained noticing the look on the Doctor's face. He invited his guest to sit down by the fire. "Killing the Daleks is not only a matter of taking revenge, or protecting our families. It's a way of providing for them as well." One of the women handed Dahsan a stick with a well-cooked piece of Dalek romp. A group of children had gathered around the warrior. They were all staring with anticipation at the blackened cadaver like a nest of hungry chicks. Dashan tore the meat in pieces and handed it out to children.

"You're hunting them." The Doctor remarked. "You're feeding on them like they're wild game."

"There is nothing else left to eat. One of the Dalek's most feared tactics was that of the incinerated earth. Devoid the enemy of food and water, and they would become so weak that they will surrender to you or starve. It's ironic that they end up being hunted down by the very people they try to eliminate. Some would call it justice."

"What would you call it?" Doctor asked, staring at a small boy who is nibbling the fat from the dead Dalek's skin.

"A way to survive." Dashan said sternly, and handed the Doctor a roasted Dalek tentacle.

The Doctor hurriedly shook his head.

Dashan shrugged and dug his teeth in the chewy meat.

"But you can't live like this forever. Sooner or later, this planet is going to run out of Daleks for you to eat. Or worse, they send for backup and finish what they have started. You need help."

"We have received help. Many generations ago, a hundred years perhaps before the Daleks discovered our world and invaded our planet, our ancestors received a strange extraterrestrial signal. It came from all the way across the galaxy. They were able to decipher it. To their horror they discovered that it predicted the invasion of the metal devils who would descend like a plaque upon us and trigger the destruction of our race. 100 years, later, that horrible prophecy indeed came true."

"So you were warned about the Daleks. Why didn't you prepare yourself?"

"We did. There was more information in that signal than only an ominous warning. The blueprint of a machine was hidden as a second layer in its coding, a machine that would save us from destruction. The elders called it the Pharos Receptor. In their wisdom, they had it built. It took a hundred years to construct, and was only finished the very day the Daleks came from the sky and stained the silver sand of our planet black with our blood." The Nomad paused, gazing into the fire as the sheer horror of his race's destruction took over his mind. "That first day, half of Judea's population was slaughtered, and fires roamed over the entire northern continent. The elders who built the Pharos device died in the flames, but their creation was spared and remained protected, deep underneath the earth. It has remained there ever since, protected by the last of the Nomads."

"But what does it do? How does it work?" The Doctor asked, getting captured by the story.

"No one truly knows, but it is our only salvation." Dashan said, tossing the inedible fibrous sinews that was all that was left of his Dalek dinner into the flames. Behind them, a group of Nomad children cheered playfully and kickied a Dalek skull around in a most macabre version of a football-game. The skull was entirely picked clean of any meat.

"But how would you know that it will help?"

Dashan stared at the Doctor. "Because we have faith in the wisdom of our ancestors. And," He picked up a stick and drew lines in the sand. "Because every night I check the stars. I memorize their positions. I have done this ever since I was a child." He pointed at the set of triangles. "This is how the stars were arranged only yesterday. Look at them now."

The Doctor arched back his head and stared up at the sky. He couldn't recognize any of the patterns that Dashan had drawn, which made him either very bad in drawing, or…

"But that's impossible. Judea should rotate as any other planet in the galaxy in an ecliptic course around the centre star following the simple laws of gravity. You can't just have such a large change in the night's sky in one day, unless your planet has moved out of its course."

"Exactly." Dashan said, fixing his cat-eyes on the Doctor. "And for as long as I can remember, the planet has been moving every night." He rose on his feet, wiping his hands clean on his robe.

"Come, I'll show you." He told the Doctor.

He guided him away from the base camp to a rock face that stuck out of the sandy planes like an island in the sea. A narrow crack at the base of the cliff lay half hiding between the shattered rocks, and slithered between the jagged stones that stood up on the rocky floor like rows of broken teeth. Inside, there was darkness. Dashan took his sword out and blew over the blade as tenderly as one would over a lover's skin, and the metal started to glow, providing the necessary light. He beckoned the Doctor to follow as he descended into the cave.

"Here. Look at this." He waved the glowing sword over the cave walls, revealing a map of the night's sky with all the stars arranged into geometrical patterns.

"My great grandfather made this. He was an engineer who worked for the elders during the endfase of the construction the Paros Receptor. He was the first to notice the changes in the stars. Look." Dashan pointed on a circle surrounded by two rings painted with sooth on the rocks.

"That is the planet Ganea that was once visible to the naked eye. It used to appear almost as large as our sun. And those." Dashan pointed further out, moving his glowing sword over the rocky surface. " - were our planet's moons. Demeter and Delelia. They have all disappeared."

The Doctor studied the rock paintings. "But all this would mean that your planet has moved out of your solar system." The Doctor said.

"That's what my great grandfather believed. He drew Ganea and Demeter and Delelia from his memories and recorded his observations on these walls, drawing the positions of the stars each night. By comparing them, he could calculate that our planet was moving into the direction of the great constellation of Hydra with an average speed of what he called 160 light years per solar turn. It started right after the engineers switched on the Pharos Receptor."

"But that's 1600 trillion kilometers a day!" Blurted the Doctor. "That's almost as fast as a 40th century space liner could go if you're really pushing down the peddle. A civilization would need at least 40 thousand years of relentless scientific progression and political stability before they can invent a ship that could travel that fast, let alone build a machine that could move entire planets." The Doctor fixed his eyes on Dashan, his face turning serious. "Actually, what in the devil's name is this Pharos Receptor?" He asked, wrinkling up his nose.

Dashan turned and beckoned the Doctor to follow him further into the cave.

The path that they took followed a natural course that went deeper down into the damp cavernous innards of the underground. The way cleared out into slippery stone steps, carved out of the rocks only recently, till at some point they reached a narrow bridge that was suspended above an abyss from metal cables. The metal deck was severely rusted, and when the Doctor made one wrong step, his sneaker punched a hole right through the rotten bottom.

"Careful. This bridge was built in the time of the elders. It won't hold much."

"Good to know that." The Doctor said, pulling his feet out of the big gaping hole as careful as a surgeon performing brain surgery. "Ever thought of replacing some parts before it collapses?" He added, while the bridge swept dangerously and squeaked like a frightened mouse under his weight.

Nomad ignored him, and ventured calmly over the metal bridge as if he was taking a stroll down a park. They finally reached the other end with the Doctor still swaying on his legs. They then descended a flight of equally flimsy stairs, and came in a vast space with a giant hole in the bedrock, cut out to house a silo with in the middle a huge antenna with coils winding around it. Cracks of electric charges slivered upwards to the tip.

"Oh that's HUGE!" The Doctor said, peering over the railing and staring down. "It goes on forever, upward and downwards. Hang on." He took out his sonic. As soon as he switched it on, it reacted with the static in the surrounding air, and gave off angry blue sparks.

"The amount of energy that is running through it is enough to blow this planet a dozen times out of the sky." The Doctor said, studying the read outs on the sonic with growing amazement.

"My grandfather told me that it drains all the energy that it needs directly from the heated heart of the planet."

"Of course, if you want to move a planet, sending it out to fly across the universe on a decent speed, you'll need a huge amount of sustainable energy, and tapping into the internal thermal heat of the planet's core would be the best solution. But how does it exactly work?" The Doctor mumbled, putting his glasses on and checking the dusty panels.

"Doctor, you better not touch that. The Pharos Receptor has been activated since the invasion of the Daleks, but the knowledge how to operate it has died with my grandparent's generation. To be honest, I don't believe that even they would have fully understood the workings of this great alien machine."

"That's not strange, is it? The Nomad elders were clever enough to build this thing from a blueprint, but someone else has designed this. Someone who is beyond clever." The Doctor's slender fingers flew over the taps of the keyboard, typing happily away through the thick layer of cobwebs till a blue screen switched on, fully illuminating the cavernous space for the first time since a hundred years. Numbers started flowing over the screen, telling the Doctor all he needed to know about the workings of the machine.

"Oh this is unbelievable." The Doctor exclaimed, and turned back to Dashan. "I can't believe it! This thing is a wonder, an engineering marvel! Who ever designed this thing was a bloody genius." The Doctor punched in a key and the screen blew out into a 3D projection, showing the silver planet and it's sun Collista.

"You know, when you told me about the shifting stars and how the neighboring planets have disappeared out of sight, one thing kept bugging me. Why did the sun not vanish too?" The Doctor asked, gazing at the projection while he kept typing away on the keyboard.

"The elders have asked the same question. None of them knew the answer." Dashan replied.

"Oh but I know the answer!" The Doctor exclaimed, suddenly jumping on his feet like an excited schoolboy. "The Pharos receptor works like a gigantic magnet. It pulls not only the planet, but also the sun forward. It's only logical really, if you want to move the planet and keep its inhabitants alive, you either move them very quickly or, move them together with the sun to prevent whatever sun-based biosystem that they got from collapsing. But that's of course not the answer to the really important question. The really important question is not the why, and the how, but where. If we're moving, then where exactly are we heading?"

"The prophecy spoke of a sanctuary where we will be protected by the very architects of the great machine from the destructive forces of the Daleks." Dashan answered.

"Right, an asylum, I can work with that. Now imagine that somewhere, far-far away form here, all the way at the other end of the universe, there is this beacon, a shining light that beams out this signal of hope into the vastness of space. And imagine that we're here at the other side. How do we get from here to there?"

"We travel at the speed of light." Dashan answered after a short moment of consideration.

"Right! And we follow the signal, back to base." The Doctor nodded. "Like a ship lost at sea, heading for the safely of the harbor lights." The Doctor added, a broad smile dawning on his face. "Your elders choose the right name for this great machine Dashan. It truly is a receptor, and as with each receptor, it must have a ligand to which it is attracted." The Doctor highlighted a coordinate on the 3D projection. "There it is, your guiding light in the hour of darkness, located in the heart of the Agora cloud, the birthplace of stars."

"But who are these wise and noble men Doctor? Who has provided us with the blue print of the Pharos receptor and have sent out the signal?"

"I…I don't know." The Doctor removed his glasses. "I really don't." He stared at the flashing red light in the middle of the scattered cloud of glowing pinpricks with a look of melancholy in his eyes. "Some even say that this cloud of starlight might be the cradle of creation itself, the very centre of the universe where the big bang has originated."

"Is it safe?" Dashan asked.

"Oh, yes. Relatively. At least it's not any denser in black holes and supernovas as the average spot in the universe, and as for the view, you cannot wish for a better location, I promise, your night's sky is going to lit up like Oxford street at Christmas time."

"And that's a good thing?" Asked Dashan, most confused.

"Well if you happened to like a bright cheery sky at midnight. Yeah it is. It's a bummer if you want to sleep with that lightshow going on. Still, nothing a pair of good dark curtains wouldn't fix."

"How long does it take before we get there?"

"Let me see, um, stuck with the current speed we're currently travelling at, we'll be reaching the Agora cloud anywhere near to 187623 days, which is in your solar years, judging by the distance from your planet to the sun, in around 445 years time."

"Another 445 years? But we won't last that long!" The Nomad answered with sheer disappointment sounding through his voice.

"well I mentioned before that you would be soon running low on Daleks."

"Not only that. We've been surviving on recycled water for the last decade. Even the corpses of our dead family members are dehydrated before they are buried to save precious water. Still, the supply is dwindling fast. We can't survive like this for another 100 years, let alone 400."

"That's why it's a good thing that you've bumped into me. I can help." The Doctor said quietly.

"How can you help? The only thing that could save us now is if we would arrive at least 300 years earlier at our destination."

"Exactly." The Doctor said, and whizzed his sonic over the screen.

"But we're already travelling as fast as we can. The machine has not been switched off since it was first activated. We can't go any faster."

"Oh but we can. You see, you're giving the guy who created this little marvel far to little credit. He knew that not every planet would be lying just around the corner of the Agora Nebula. So he designed his creation in such a way that it could travel great distances without breaking into a sweat." The Doctor pointed down into the dark abyss below in which the base of the Receptor was located. "Down there are five time warp engines. It's all here in the blueprint. Activate those, and we'll be off like a photon shot out of a lasergun."

"But if it's there, if it's built, why didn't they turn it on?"

"Probably didn't have the time." The Doctor opted. "Some of the wirings are still unfinished. Mind you, it's not something a bit of tinkering and a quick mind couldn't have fixed. Still, if you only got seconds before the Daleks arrive, the first of your ancestor's concerns might not have been to get the finishing touches done on some strange machine that they didn't fully understand."

The Doctor slipped the sonic back in his pockets and started feeding in numbers into the program.

"But how is that gonna help? There's no one left alive who knows how to operate it. Unless…" Dashan stared at the Doctor who kept him himself busy like an hyperactive bee on a honey rush.

"You have me and that's enough. You should thank your ancestors for so accurately following the blueprint to the last letter. They might not know what it was what they have built, but at least it's there, down there in the cellar and waiting. Waiting for someone like me to juggle with the switches to finally, with one push of a button-" The Doctor smiled dorkishly and punched in a red key in the corner of the dashboard. "- bring it back to life!"

A massive boom followed, coming from beneath and echoing over the vast silo, rattling its delicate construction to the core. The Doctor stared at Dashan, eyes wide and still smiling. The Nomad simply thought the stranger had lost his mind.

"Better to get out of here before the rust that keeps the staircase and the bridge together starts to disintegrate!" The Doctor yelled, straining his voice to rise above the explosions.

"What about the machine?" Dashan asked, dodging a hail of rocks that started to fall down from the instable cave ceiling.

"Oh leave it. It will survive. It's doing exactly what is it designed to do." The Doctor pulled his friend by the arm and dragged him to the staircase.

The narrow tunnel was caving in. They crossed the metal bridge just in time before a whole section of the ceiling came down, crushed the deck and took it down into the abyss in a tangle of cables and rust. The Doctor and Dashan kept running for their lives until finally a bright light appeared in front of them that marked the entrance of the cave. They both dived out of the narrow crack, rolling over the soft silver sand as they landed, while the entrance collapsed behind them with a loud, thunderous noise.

The Doctor rolled on his back. Still gasping for air, he looked up at the sky.

What he saw made his eyes large in wonder.

The sky was illuminated with stars that passed by so fast that they draw lines of light, like endless bursts of horizontal rain. Within a blink of an eye, entire galaxies, in all different sizes and shapes, rushed by like a series of restless cloud formations during a storm. The atmosphere crackled with energy, and flashes of lightening split the air.

"What's going on? Why does the sky look like this?" Dashan asked with panic rising in his voice.

"It's the Pharos Receptor. It's finally working as it should. We are travelling to the birthplace of the stars, literally flying across the universe, at time-warp speed." The Doctor mused, still gazing at the spectacular sight with the starlight glistening in his eyes. "Ha! Look at that! An entire planet, moved across the universe by bending both space and time around it, protecting it, till it's delivered safely at the doorstep of the Agora Nebula. It's hard to imagine, and still, it's happening right now."

"How long before we reach our destination. Doctor?" Dashan asked after a short silence.

"An hour. Two hours max." The Doctor fixed him a serious look.

"I better head back to the others and tell them." Dashan said.

The Doctor nodded. "You should prepare."

**3.**

At three in the morning, the rays of a new, more dazzling sun greeted the Nomads. Their own sun was apparently left behind after the time-warp was initiated, but no one mourned its loss. They were too occupied with dealing with the strange new universe in front of them to dwell on the past. The entire tribe was awake, staring at the sky with a mixture of wonder and fear, as they saw how the new sun paled out the stars. Judging by the speed that it was growing, they had slowed down considerably, travelling almost at the same pace before the Doctor had activated the time-warp engines. This meant that they were nearing their destination, and they were inching closer to the endpoint at docking speed.

The Doctor squinted his eyes against the sunlight, shielding them with his hand. Slowly, he saw planets appearing in the sky. Small, large, blue, red, black or yellow, made out of gas, water, ice, fire or rock, there were at least a thousand of them, all orbiting in close proximity of each other, clouding around a single sun.

"Where are we?" One of the rebel Nomads asked as he took in the marvelous sight that slowly unfolded before his very eyes.

"We're at the sanctuary." The Doctor replied. "The haven that is promised to you." The sky flashed from purple to white a dozen times as they passed by other planets, some of them getting so close that it occupied one third of the sky, sending the women and children and some of the less brave Nomad men running back to their tents in fright.

A harsh wind swept up when the close encounter with the other planets wrecked havoc on Judea's otherwise stable weather system. Those who stayed outside were sandblasted and the Doctor felt the vicious sting of the dessert slap across his face. At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him, creating shapes out of the wind and sand that weren't really there. But then the shapes moved closer, and their armor caught the sunlight in the hazy dust, while their unmistakable pepper pot shapes draw long shadows over the plane.

"Daleks! They've found us!" The Doctor yelled.

"Get back to basecamp and arm yourself!" Dashan ordered his men.

The Dalek troops began to attack, firing at the settlement, causing explosions and starting fires. The women screamed, and ran out of the burning tents with their children in their arms. Nomad rebels rushed out, armed with their crescent swords, ready to defend their kin to the death. The Daleks fired again, killing dozens of them during their charge.

"Stop this!" The Doctor confronted the Daleks. "Stop this massacre!"

"WE WILL NOT STOP TILL ALL ARE EXTERMINATED!" The front Dalek ordered. "FINISH THE TIMELORD."

The Doctor backed down when two Dalek soldier's fixed their eyepieces on him and lined their guns in his direction.

"Why are you still doing this? Have you looked up at the sky? There is an entire new universe out there. A place especially created to protect innocent people from mad space dustbins like you lot. Shouldn't you be packing up your stuff and leave instead of trying to incriminate yourself further by slaughtering the last inhabitants of this planet?" The Doctor spat, more furious than afraid.

"WE ARE NOT AFRAID OF YOUR KIND. WE WILL EXTERMINATE ALL THE ENEMIES OF THE DALEKS. THE DALEKS SHALL BE VICTORIOUS!" Answered one of them.

"THE DALEKS SHALL BE VICTORIOUS!" Echoed the others till it became a mad monotonous mantra.

"AND NOW, I SHALL TAKE GREAT PRIDE IN KILLING YOU. TIMELORD." The Dalek soldier said, and fired his gun.

"Doctor!" Dashan screamed, cutting his way through an army of Daleks, he came rushing over to his aid, but was too far away to stop the Dalek soldier in time.

The Doctor shut his eyes, but instead of the piercing pain that he had expected, something exploded close to his right ear and shattered his eardrum. For a moment he heard nothing but a loud ring. He struggled back up. Hot blood trickled into his right eye and blurred his vision, but he could still clearly see a group of human figures appearing through the sandstorm that was ravaging the planet. Their steel shoulder armor and helmet flashed dangerously in the sunlight, and their eyes burnt behind their red visors like two lumps of amber. They raised their laserguns and fired, a flash like lightening shot out and paralyzed the two Daleks that kept him under shot. The Daleks machinery shivered and rattled inside the armor plates like an old lawnmower, before breaking down completely, rendering the tank-like life-support system that sustained the Dalek warrior inside, useless.

"Are you all right sir?" The soldier who had just saved his skin asked, lifting the visor from his face.

The Doctor said nothing. He was lost for words.

"Stay where you are. We have the situation fully under control." The soldier said. "You're in the Lord Chancellor's territory now. You'll be safe." He lowered his visor again and went back into battle, leaving a stunned Doctor behind.

"Doctor? Are you all right?" Dashan asked, giving him a hand and pulling him up from the ground.

"No. I mean. Yes. Yes I am." He mumbled, still shaken to the core.

"They look like you. Do you know them?"

"Yes I do." The Doctor whispered.

"Who are they?"

"They're Timelords. Like me."

He kept staring at the soldiers while they were battling the Daleks as if each and single one them had just risen from the sands of time to return to him from their graves.

**4.**

After the last Dalek soldiers were disarmed and taken prisoner, the surviving Nomads were rounded up at the camp, and after a quick headcount, they were escorted by the armed Timelord soldiers to their ship. It was little more than a space cruiser, obviously designed to fit no more than two people inside, but as the cabin door opened, they found a spacious hangar that was large enough to house a dozen of spitfire spacecrafts with room left to spare for both the asylum seekers, the Dalek prisoners, and the returning troops. If the Doctor had his reservation about the descent of these soldiers, he could doubt no more. The space cruiser was created with Timelord technology, and these soldiers were truly Timelords. While the Nomads marveled at the impossible size, the Doctor finally found an opportunity to speak to one of them.

"So, where are we heading then?" He asked, as casual as possible, but his both his hearts were rattling like mad.

"We're bringing you to the quarantine ward." The soldier informed him in a polite but stern manner. "It's standard protocol sir. The Agora safety zone is densely populated. We don't want an outbreak of diseases that we cannot control. You and the leader of the tribe, the Nomad called Dashan, will be escorted to our Lord Chancellor after going through an accelerated quarantine procedure. Everybody else has to stay in the ward for a month before further naturalization."

The accelerated quarantine procedure turned out to be a series of showers with malodorous disinfectants that stung in various degrees and left the Doctor feeling like a washed out piece of dry cloth, smelling of insect spray and cheap dishwashing liquids.

The only comfort to him was that he wouldn't be alone in meeting the man who had saved his life in a wrinkled, smelly suit. Dashan didn't look or smelled any better than he did after he had gone through the same.

The soldiers transferred them to another ship that left the quarantine ward, a small stony planet orbiting on the rim of the supersized solar system, and headed towards the sun.

"Eh, sir. Where are we exactly heading?" Dashan asked, a little nervous, as it seemed that they were set for a head-on collision course with the scorching yellow surface of the burning star.

"The Crystal Palace sir. Now please sit back and relax, we will arrive within minutes." The Timelord soldier informed him, and went back to staring ahead of him with a stern look on his face while he kept his riffle resting by his side.

"What kind of mad world is this? If we're getting too close, this ship is going to burn." Whispered Dashan.

The Doctor, who had been wondering for a while now why the star in the middle of this refugee solarsystem appeared to be far less bright when you came closer, peered through the special UV and gamma rays protection windows next to his passenger's seat. "Oh I wouldn't worry, the Timelords should know what they're doing. Besides, our soldier friend here is right, there is absolutely no reason to panic. Nothing is going to happen to this ship, because, if you look really carefully into the sun….There, right there in its heart." He pointed it out for him. "Is your shining beacon that has saved your people's lives."

Dashan followed his gaze and saw what the Doctor had noticed, a vast colony of steel and glass, built on a small rocky planet the size of a large meteoroid, with two tower-like structures sticking out of the largest building, while the whole construction itself sat comfortably in the core of the brightly burning sun. The tallest of the two towers was built like a lighthouse, and massive currents of electricity spiraled up into the top and combusted into a bright blue light every 2 seconds or so.

"The Pharos beacon and a whole colony hiding inside an artificial sun. Another impossibility that appears to be possible." The Doctor mumbled. "Oh this is getting more interesting by the minute." He said excitedly, rubbing in his hands. "I'm really looking forward to get to know who runs this place."

As they approached, the Doctor couldn't stop himself from constantly peering out with his nose pressed flat on the pane. He quickly found out why the colony inside the sun was not destroyed. The answer was simple really. It wasn't a real sun. It was a projection that originated from the tip of the crystal tower structure, which delivered a vast amount of cold energy that was pressed into the shape of averaged size star. The resulting synthetic sun burnt and warmed the orbiting planets, just like a real one would. However inside, it was a hollow sphere, with a shell of yellow energy that crackled with disturbances in magnetism when the spaceship passed through. The tiny spaceship docked at one of the ramps close to the centre building, and the guests were escorted into the vast complex.

The corridor leading to the centre building was like a cathedral of glass, providing spectacular views of the solar flares that rippled the surface of the fake sun. It was as if they were inside a gigantic glowing orange, staring at the burning peel from the core. The whole idea was crazy and marvelous at the same time, and it fired the Doctor's excitement in finally meeting their brilliant host.

They reached the dome-shaped centre, which was also constructed of glass, but the walls were covered by large ornamented slates of marble and were supported by massive white columns. The whole design reminded the Doctor of the senate in ancient Rome, or the reception room of Mussolini in fascist Italy. The walls were lined with statues, most of them he could recognize as great men and women out of Timelord history, while some of the stony faces failed to ring a bell. In the middle of the huge chamber was a throne like seat, flanked by two vicious looking azurite lions. A man, dressed in a Roman style toga awaited them. He was seated on the platform with his hand resting on the manes of one of the large stone predators.

The Doctor's breath stuck in his throat. He remembered that man. He remembered holding him in his arms and weeping over his death. He remembered setting fire to his funeral pyre and watching his remains turn to ash. The Master should be dead, but here he was. Just like all the others. He had returned to him. Like a phoenix, he had risen from the ashes.

And suddenly, the Doctor was terrified.

"As the Lord Chancellor of the Agora safety zone, I welcome you both." The Master said to them, spreading his arms while remaining seated, he studied the Nomad chief for a moment before he fixed his eyes on the Doctor. _He knows_, the Doctor thought. _He has recognized me the moment I walked in here. Why is he alive? And how on Pyronian's name did he become Lord Chancellor of an intergalactic refugee protection zone?_

Dashan bowed his head deeply. "My kin and I are most grateful to you. You have saved us from the Dalek invaders."

The Master smiled, a politician smile with as much sincerity as a polecat grinning at a songbird, as far as the Doctor was concerned. He remembered Harold Saxon far too well. "Oh you don't need to thank me. It is the plight of the Timelords to protect the less advanced civilizations from the black Dalek curse. You and your kin are welcome to become citizen of the Agorian community, and your home planet will be given a rightful place in our solar system. We will accept you as our own."

_If he knows it's me, why does he keep pretending? Why keep up this act of friendliness? What is he up to?_ The Doctor's mind rambled, studying the Master's every move with suspicion.

"Thank you my Lord! We're forever in your dept for your kindness and your generosity."

"And I vow to you that I will grant you our protection and help." The Master answered, keeping his sterile smile up. "All that I ask for in exchange, is your people's knowledge."

Dashan blinked his eyes in amazement. "Knowledge, sir?"

The Master's smile widened, and stroked the manes of the stone lion absentmindedly. "It's a proposal that you must agree to. Every race that has entered the Agorian zone has shared with us their science on the fields of informatics, engineering, and mathematics, to aid in the good common cause to fight the Dalek empire. You see, without new knowledge, our engineers cannot improve the weapons that we have to keep the Daleks at bay. We do not tolerate any race that comes to the safety zone empty handed." He added in a serious, businesslike tone. "So if you and your people want to stay, you have to give me something in return."

"I'm afraid the Nomads are not a technologically advanced race, my Lord." Dashan explained, nervously. "Although our civilization has its own remarkable achievement at its highdays, it's nothing compared to what I've seen so far from your civilization. It absolutely pales in comparison."

"Oh, but anything you have may be enough." The Master continued, sensing the man's dread, but acting very little on it. "Just show us what your achievements are, and we will judge if your people are worthy of our protection, or not."

"Oh this is nonsense!" The Doctor exclaimed, finally unable to hold it in any longer. "These people are refugees, they have endured enough from the Daleks already. Now they are knocking at your door for help and all you can think of is to pick them clean like some rapturous vulture! Honestly, from all the things I've seen from you, this must be lowest thing you've ever done Master!" The Doctor fumed.

A deadly silence followed that was only breached by a Timelord guard who had dropped his javelin in shock.

The Master kept his eyes on the Doctor, narrowing them dangerously and pouting his lips in dismay.

"Doctor, you shouldn't have spoken like that. The future of the Nomads does rest in my hands. I cannot afford to jeopardize it." Dashan whispered worriedly.

The Master beckoned one of the guards and whispered something to him before he dismissed him. He then turned back to the visitors.

"And you shouldn't be grovelling at his feet." The Doctor replied, determinedly. "I know this man. I tell you. It won't help a bit."

"Lord Chancellor." Dashan said, hurriedly. "Please, forgive my friend. Although he has only spoken from the heart and wanted to help, he does not represent my people. I represent my people. And I offer you my hand in agreement of your proposal. The Nomads shall surrender all their knowledge to you for your examination."

"Well, then I shall extend my hand in acceptance and offer you and your people peace." The Master answered, switching his polite 100 watt smile back on. He rose from his chair and walked down a few steps of the platform before offering the Nomad chief his hand.

"I trust that I can expect from the Nomads that they'll behave within the protection zone according to the rules determined by the Timelord government." The Master added.

Dashan went down on his knees, took the Master's hand and kissed his seal ring. "We will obey your rules and serve you my Lord. You have my word."

"Excellent." The Master turned and ordered one of the Timelord counselors who had been waiting behind the throne to approach. "This is Lord Valkony. He's in charge of all of the scientific investigations conducted on newly arrived refugees. He will guide you through the rest of the procedure. Valkony."

"Yes milord." The older Timelord bowed to his superior before turning to the Nomad. "Sir Dashan. Now if you could follow me to the archive chambers, we have a lot to discuss."

Dashan bowed deeply before he was escorted out by the Timelord counselor and the guards. The Doctor was about to follow him when two other guards appeared out of nowhere and blocked his way to the doors.

"What is this?" The Doctor turned around. The Master was still standing on the platform, arms crossed over his chest, he made a slight gesture with his head, and the two guards picked up the Doctor under the arms till his tips of his sneakers no longer touched the ground.

"Hey! Let go of me! Gosh that tickles!"

He was dragged in front of the Master, who gazed down at him with an amused look in his eyes.

"That's no way to treat a guest." The Doctor remarked dryly.

The Master's lips curled at the corners, displaying a ghost of a smile. He snapped his finger and the two guards dropped the Doctor like a sack of heavy potatoes. The Doctor straightened his collar and gazed into the Master's eyes. If he wanted to get back on him, if he wanted to take his revenge for all that he had done to him, for all that they had done to each other, this would be the time, but he shouldn't expect him to yield.

"Doctor." The Master spoke his name without malice, if anything his voice carried a hint of apprehension, and curiosity.

"Master." The Doctor replied, keeping his chin up. Whatever he had in mind this time, he knew he would be able to stop him. He always did. He had half-expected to get hurt by now. Although occasionally charming and maddeningly polite at times, the Master was keen on brutalities, especially if there were people around who could do the dirty work for him. Last time he messed with his affairs, he was bruised and battered the minute he made himself visible on board of the Valliant. He was preparing himself to at least to get a punch from one of the guards, when instead, completely by surprise, the Master went over and draped his arms around his shoulders, hugging him so tightly that for a moment, he couldn't even breathe.

"I knew it!" The Master said, bursting with joy. "I thought it was you the minute you walked through that door, but I wasn't sure till you opened your mouth and started to talk. Oh, the righteous, merciful Doctor! My dear, dear friend! I have not seen you in 900 years and for countless regenerations, and still you have changed so little." The Master beamed a wide smile at him, a kind, honest smile that could cheer up the Doctor's soul on a lonely winter's day.

But for now, the Doctor, except for awkwardness, could only feel the beginning of a headache coming on as confusion continued to slap him silly.

"What do you mean? 900 years?" In the Doctor's recollection, the last time they bumped into each other was in 2007, with the Master being far less friendly to him as the mad prime minister Harold Saxon.

"You don't recognize me?" The Master asked, looking at the Doctor with furrowed brows. "It's me, Koschei! You must remember me though, you called me Master."

He shook his head in disappointment and sat down on the marble steps. He seemed really upset by the lack of a reaction from the Doctor's side.

"Right then." The Master clapped in his hands. "Memory lane! Remember graduation-day at the Academy? You were supposed to wait for me till my graduation ceremony was over, but you took off in the Tardis that we had found together in the Graveyard fields. You didn't leave a word about where you were going. Didn't even have the decency to say goodbye to any of us. Your mother, the poor woman, she cried endlessly when she found out. And as for myself…to be honest, I thought I was going mad without you."

"Did you." The Doctor muttered. Remembering _his_, much worse, version of the story, and feeling very guilty indeed.

"We really thought you were dead." The Master said, a faint smile of genuine relief playing on his lips. He seemed so different from the man he was before. If he didn't knew any better, the Doctor would even say that he reminded him of an adult version of the wonderful eight year old friend that he had lost, so very long ago.

"Doctor, What has happened to you?" The Master asked.

The Doctor wanted to cease this crazy conversation. He wanted to scream at the weird version of the Master that he should stop being so nice to him. He was convinced that it couldn't be real, and he surely was just dreaming all this stuff up. He would wake up in the Tardis, in his own bed, alone in the dark with the bitter lingering taste of alcohol in his mouth, and cry his eyes out because he had lost him and everybody else all over again.

"I really, really don't know." He told him instead, and it was all painfully true.

**_TBC_**

**_Next chapter will be up next week 21th of August. Meanwhile, please review and comment if the story pleases you. Your reviews keep my writing._**

**_Best wishes_**

**_H_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Once again, big thanks to Koscheithepianist for beta-reading the chapter.**

**Chapter 3**

**1.**

It was the Master's idea of showing the Doctor his hospitality by assigning him living quarters within the palace complex. This was an exceptional honor according to the Vinvocci servant who showed him to his apartment, since the Lord Chancellor would hardly invited any guests to stay. Oh the place was nice enough. There was a tele-hologram with at least a thousand channels, a large comfy bed, a minibar stuffed with all types of exotic snacks, and a great solar panel that acted as wall-sized window that granted the Doctor an amazing view over the remarkable colony jammed with refugee planets. Before he left, the Vinvocci kindly reminded him that the Master had invited him for diner and that he _really_ shouldn't be late. The Doctor decided to freshen up before the meal. He had sand coming out of his ears and stuffed in every imaginable fold of his clothes, which was starting to get rather irritating. After he took a long hot bath, shaved, brushed his teeth, and had spend a good quarter of an hour pulling silly faces at himself, he stood in front of a mirror in his ridiculously large bathroom the size of someone's living-room, and stared silently at his reflection.

"I know. I know it's hard." He muttered. "You saw him standing there, alive, relatively kind-mannered, and quite possibly even sane, and you think maybe…maybe it's better this way." The Doctor paused. "But you'll only be kidding yourself if you believe that." He told the man in the mirror.

"Something is horrible wrong here, and you should find out what it is that has caused this. No more excuses. The longer this pantomime goes on, the more difficult it would be to get things back as they were. Just…be brave." He nodded, and ran his fingers through his wet hair for the last time before switching off the lights and going out.

He was expected in the banquet hall at the 243rd floor of the crystal tower. The elevator doors slid open with a polite little ring, and revealed an impressive room with a six storey high domed ceiling. The colored glass tiles in the dome, depicting various star signs taken from the mythology of at least a dozen different cultures, captured the starlight and threw wonderful reflections on the marble floor beneath. In the middle of the large hall, a table for three was set up. There, the Master was impatiently waiting for the Doctor. By his side stood a beautiful young lady dressed in a purple silk robe.

"Doctor!" The Master exclaimed and took him again in his arms. The Doctor was still adjusting to the fact that the Master could be capable of warm human contact, and stood as still and stiff as a pole in the mud, but his unease was hardly noticed. "This." The Master continued cheerfully. "Is my most enchanting wife Anne Bullen, who I love with whole my heart."

He gave her such an adoring sweet look that the Doctor actually felt a severe case of toothache coming up. "Nice to meet you." He said. His friendly smile was a little forced when he felt a strange knot tightening in his stomach. "I'm the Doctor."

"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Doctor." The raven-haired woman answered, pouting a little smile at him. She had the most dazzling green eyes he had ever seen. "My husband has told me so many stories about you. The adventures you had when you both were boys. You amaze me, sir."

They took seat at the table where they were served sparkling white wine in long crystal flutes. The taste of the wine was amazing, like liquid drops of spring sunshine gliding down the Doctor's throat. It was accompanied by canopies of smoked green tuna served with a mouse of moonfish caviar. The Master always had an expensive taste, but it seemed that he now finally had the time and the peace of mind to fully indulge in it.

"Now Doctor." The Master said, leaning forward expectantly. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?" The Doctor asked with his mouth stuffed with nibbles.

"_Everything_ of course! I want to know everything. What the hell have you been up to all this time? I had always believed that since you've never thought of coming back to Gallifrey, you must have had an amazing life out there."

"Well, maybe I wouldn't say it was amazing, it was interesting, I suppose." The Doctor told him, quickly swallowing the food, and flushing it away with a good swig of fine wine. Heaven's knows he needed a few drinks to face this new version of the Master. "I ran into a couple of hostile aliens, and there were quite a few times that I barely made it out of a tricky situation alive, and I visited a lot of places, all across history, and seen many things, met so many amazing people, and had so many, wonderful friends…"

The Doctor stopped for a moment as he contemplated.

"You know, you're right." He said softly. "I had an amazing life after I left Gallifrey, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world." He finished his sparkling wine in one gulp and then started to tell the Master and Anne about all the remarkable things he had done. He was careful not to give away too much detail, unsure as he was about which of his experiences were still in line with the Master's version of history, but he thought that there could be no harm in telling his dear friend about Earth, and the very people that had stolen his heart. That small blue planet, which had offered him, in a sense, a refuse, in a time when there was no home for him to return to. And as the evening went on, and the wine flowed freely during dinner, the Doctor slowly opened up and told the Master about all the wonderful companions he had gained and lost over the years. Sweet Susan, and bright-shining Sarah Jane, fearless Ace and beautiful Romana. Brave Martha, who had wanted more than he could have given her. Noble Donna, the most important person in the world, who had saved the universe, but whose life he couldn't save. And finally…Rose.

He told him about Rose.

His hearts broke all over again.

At the end of the evening, most of the wine bottles were emptied out, and the Doctor was lying face down on the table cloth, his head felt like it had invited in a thousand rhinos for a stampede, and although he had the slight notion that he had made a complete dick of himself, he couldn't help to feel a million times more relieved in hearts.

"You know, you really should stop drinking." The Master mused, calmly examining his drink and tactfully moving the half-filled wine-glass away from the Doctor.

"Where is Anne?" The Doctor asked, raising his head and looking dazed. He had an imprint of his napkin on his cheek.

"She went to bed half an hour ago. You might have missed it. You were snoring like a horde of Judoons, but she did excuse herself."

"Blimey, I'm really sorry, I must look like an ill-mannered dork." The Doctor said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"It's good, isn't it, to pour your hearts out once in a while?" The Master smiled, while tapping his wedding ring on his wineglass. "It clears the head like a good night's sleep. Helps you to deal with your troubles and allows you to move on."

"Now that I've cleared mine. How about yours?" The Doctor stared at him with drooping eyelids. "Does the great Lord Chancellor of the Agora territories, who has all the power, and riches and respect he could ever desire, and a beautiful, loving wife to the boot, still have a troubled mind?"

The Master didn't answer him, but kept staring at the dark honey-colored liquid swirling inside his wineglass.

"Master, I've told you what was important in my life. Now it's your turn."

"Nothing remarkable happened to me that wasn't already arranged to happen." The Master finally said. "After you left Gallifrey, I went into apprenticeship in the house of Lords. You remember how much my father wanted that? I climbed the political ladder faster than a snow lynx shooting up the mountain cliffs." He grinned joylessly. "Daddy's golden boy they called me. As if I didn't have to fight for every inch to get up there with the rest of the high and mighty council." He snorted.

"Oh but look at what you have achieved. People were just jealous." The Doctor remarked, leaning his chin on his palm as he listened.

"I worked harder than any of those self-satisfied, dusty office clerks. I became appointed ambassador at 57 and received a seat in the Lord council, the youngest Timelord in history to rise so early to such a respectable station. It was all that my father had ever wanted for me. In his eyes, I had fulfilled my destiny." The Master said, curling his lips a little, and emptying his glass in one swig.

"But then, along came the war." He muttered, with a sudden bitterness in his voice.

He slammed the glass on the table and gazed back at Doctor.

"The horrible Timewar."

The Master got up, grabbing the opened bottle of Bordassus Brut 45996 out of the icebucket and left the table.

"Oh come on now. You must have heard of it, even if you've been living like a hermit under a rock for all this time." He told the Doctor.

"What happened to you?" The Doctor asked quietly.

The Master beckoned the Doctor to follow him.

**2.**

He took the Doctor to a smaller chamber where the walls were decorated with numerous portraits. Some of them showed familiar faces out of Timelord history, mostly important members of the Lord council. It surprised the Doctor to see that the most prominent spot on the walls was taken by a detailed portrait of the Lord president Rassilon. When he saw it, a strange feeling of unease crept over the Doctor's spine. He didn't understand why, but the idea that the Master, in his adoration, had actually choosing to showcase Rassilon's portrait as a focal point, like Wilf might place a picture of the Queen on a bit of lace on top of the telly, particularly made his stomach turn.

The other portraits showed the 14 faces of the man he had fought and cherished as his best enemy and friend.

"Oh look at that." The Doctor went over to the portrait showing one of the more familiar regenerations of the Master, complete with dark beard and mustache, looking calm and dignified in the high council ceremonial robe, "I remember you like that. I always thought it was quite remarkable that you could keep that little mustache of yours in such a good shape." The Doctor rambled cheerfully.

"What do you mean?" The Master said, raising his eyebrows at him. "You never saw me in that regeneration. We've never met." He said, taking a good swig out of the bottle.

"Ah." The Doctor bit on his tongue, maybe he had indeed too much wine. "I mean I like the mustache. I've never tried to grow one myself though. Well, I had a beard made of Sontarian bees once, but that was more something of an accident, and it itched like crazy."

"Right." The Master studied the Doctor's reddening face. It seemed only good manners to ignore that last bit about the bees.

"That's me indeed, in my 13th regeneration." The Master told him. "I was sent out to fight the Dalek emperor's fleet. Ever since the Timewar started during my 4th regeneration, I've gradually abandoned my diplomatic duties and have led our armies to war against the Dalek abominations. By the time I reached my 13th life, I was field marshal of the Gallifreyian army and was considered by the Lord council to be the perfect military conductor to ensure their victory over the Daleks. I thought so the same of course, but then, the unimaginable happened, and we started to lose. Our fleet was ambushed near nebula 1002, with our squadron damaged and outnumbered, I requested an immediate retreat, but was ordered by the council and our lord president to hold on to our posts and keep them back. The Daleks eventually took over my flagship, My officers, the bravest men I've ever had the honor to serve with, fought at my side until the very last man."

He paused. His expression grew dark.

"I remembered that moment when the Daleks rounded us up for execution. I knew that I had fulfilled my duty and that I should be proud, but all that I could think of when those soulless little eyepieces focused on me, right before they fired, was that I really, really wanted to live…." He took another swig out of the bottle, looking bitter.

"And did they…let you live?" The Doctor asked.

"No of course not." The Master snorted. "I died, just like the rest of my men. Lady Fortuna has always been kind to me, but I guess that was a bit too much to ask, Dalek mercy is an absolute contradiction in terms."

"But that wasn't the end for you. You came back." The Doctor responded.

"Death." The Master grunted. "It was supposed to last forever. I had run out of my 13 regenerations. It was only fair that I was allowed to stay dead. Instead, I was resurrected by the Lord council. You see, they needed me to continue to fight their war. I woke up in the vault of Cold Lamentation, naked as the day I was born, scared and confused, unable to even stammer out a single comprehensive word. Let alone that I would be capable to lead the troops back to battle. The elders thought I came back wrong, and kept me locked up and under supervision for more than a month. I was kept in the dark, hidden for the others, and if I had stayed like that for any longer they would have disposed of me because I would have been a reliability and pretty much useless for their cause. Fortunately for me, I came to my senses in time and after convincing them that I would still do my duty for Gallifrey, they released me and put me back in charge of the army. And just like that, I went on fighting, and never looked back."

"This is wrong." The Doctor shook his head compassionately. "They shouldn't have brought you back to fight their war."

"I suppose so." The master shrugged, clearing the bottle and sitting down on the marble steps in front of the entrance. He didn't want to show it, but the wine was also starting to affect him. "You know, I used to be so afraid of dying when I was younger. But when they brought me back…I have to tell you this Doctor, I had that one clear moment, right before I came back to life, in which I was aware of how peaceful it was to be on the other side. Compared to that, life is noisy, and bright, a constant struggle. Sometimes I wish I had stayed in the darkness and had kept my peace."

"But you pulled through in the end. This place is a sanctuary for those threatened by the Dalek forces, and you're in charge of it." The Doctor said, genuinely impressed.

"About hundred years ago, we and our allies were finally able to force the Daleks on their knees and sign a treaty that would divide the known galaxies into Dalek and Timelord territories. It became known as the Treaty of Saxony. The rest of the universe was to become a gray zone, a so-called no-mans-land where Timelords and Daleks are allowed to venture, but are not allowed to settle." The Master sighed and stated up at the ceiling, listening to the blood rushing into his head. "Of course it didn't stop those little monsters from entering the unprotected planets and plundering them for all that they were worth."

"So what happened to those who are not part of the happy few and happened to be living outside of the protection of the mighty Timelord race?" The Doctor asked sternly.

"Well, initially, they were left to fend for themselves. It's all very much in the good old fashioned Timelord tradition, isn't it?" He snorted, knowing very well that it would upset the Doctor. "You know how allergic our people are for possible interference in the natural courses of time. Besides, if you look past the varnish, the thin layer of decency stripped bare, right into our hearts and excavate the fossilized truth, we are only keen on protecting our own interest." The Master grinned sarcastically.

"But I found a way to help them. As I believe we should." He added, gazing sincerely at the Doctor. "It's our duty as a higher species. Or so my father told me."

"It was you." The Doctor muttered, stunned by the realization. "You designed the Pharos receptor. You sent out the blueprint signal across the universe to summon all the threatened races."

"I've built Agora 1 as a satellite station in the hope to offer a safe haven for those who were fleeing from the Daleks. It's an island of Gallifrey territory in the middle of the hostile, unclaimed lands. I've only expected a handful of refugee races to answer the call, but when they finally came, they came in their thousands."

"That device is pure brilliance." The Doctor said with wide-eyed admiration. "All those planets circling around this one artificial sun, all those wonderful worlds with millions of lives, you've saved every single one of them." The Doctor whispered.

"But hang on, why did you demand them to hand over their knowledge to you? What are you going to do, if they can't pay their way into your Dalek-free community, are you going to demand that they pack up their planet and leave?" The Doctor asked, frowning his way back to skepticism.

"You don't really understand politics do you, Doctor?" The Master laughed. "My father taught me that a good diplomat should always say one thing and mean the other. Of course I would never send them back. But you would never believe how many of those refugee races try to use their own technological advantage to suppress the others, or are just itching to do some religious ethnic cleansing within Agora territory. It's better to disarm them before they start a civil war. I've never rejected a race and sent them back to die. If this was only about satisfying the greed for knowledge, and we would only admit the select races that deliver something worthwhile, I could have counted the number of planets we're then left with on one single hand."

The Doctor gazed at the Master whose eyes burnt with a righteous sort of anger that could only be coming from a man who believed in his cause and wouldn't tollerate any false acquisitions, not even from an old friend. The Doctor actually wanted to believe him, but found it extremely hard. Perhaps his doubt was caused by the strange circumstances, the utterly bonkers idea that the Timelords in this, what of the Doctor now conceived as a bended version of reality, were all still there, fighting the Daleks for every inch of time-space in the universe. Or perhaps, it was because it was late, and his brains were partly pickled in expensive alcohol, and he had a very long day with his favorite space dustbins trying to murder him on several occasions and, oh yes, let's not forget, the fact that he had known the Master to be a complete and utter selfish bastard for the last 900 years or so. So there were, he concluded, reasons enough.

"And the drums?" The Doctor finally dared to ask. He had been itching to drop the question the entire night, but needed some courage borrowed from the bottle to do so. He didn't drink so much for nothing.

"What about them?" The Master asked, with a sudden hostility in his voice.

"Do you still hear them?"

Two heartbeats of silence followed in which the Master slowly turned to him, his eyes narrowing.

"No. Do you?"

Doctor held his silence and pressed his lips together till they almost disappeared, knowing by the change on the Master's face that he had already asked too much.

**3.**

It didn't take long for sleep to claim him. The Doctor was already snoring even before his head hit the cushions. He was having the weirdest dreams. The Master had invited him for diner, and he was introduced at the door to his wife, a green-eyed beauty with a pouty smile. Next thing he knew he was sitting at the table, with the Master, wearing a bloodstained apron, carving a massive ostrich the size of a cow with a knife, and looking more like a deranged butcher than a vision of domestic bliss, and telling him how couples dinner parties were absolutely a great way to break the midweek malaise, if only the Doctor would be do good to show up next time with an actual date. For some ridiculous reason, the dream version of the Doctor couldn't keep his mouth shut and kept rambling about how he thought the Master wasn't precisely the marrying type, and how it was really misfortunate that the current regeneration of the Master was so keen on going through the ladies by the dozen. Soon they both were bickering like old crones, and heated arguments and accusations were flying over the table when the doorbell suddenly rang. The Master jumped out of his seat and announced that it was probably the third couple he had invited for dinner, and would the Doctor be so kind to open the door to receive them while he rushed back to the kitchen and checked on his soufflé. The Doctor opened the door and found lord president Rassilon, standing there with a big wolf's grin, holding a bottle of cheap wine with the price label still attached and shoving a bundle of cheery yellow flowers in his hands. The Doctor was too stunned to say anything but the Master stuck his head around the corner and asked him to please remember to wipe his feet. Surprisingly, Rassilon did as he was told, while a dark hooded figure in a long black robe, followed him into the hall. It was DEATH, and after he was properly introduced by Rassilon as his date and better half, the Master took the lord persident's robe and DEATH's scythe and carefully put them away in the hall closet. I'm very sorry that we're late. DEATH apologized. I rather have you late than early. The Master responded, Actually, the evening would have turned out even better if both of you haven't showed up at all! And then they all started to laugh, including the Doctor, like they were a bunch of bad actors in a corny scene in some horrible third-rate sitcom, and everything started to swirl, and swirl, and swirl…..

The four knocks on the door resonating in the Doctor's head were actually a welcome interruption. He opened his eyes and looked into a brightly lit bedroom. The remnants of the weird dream were drifting away, only to be replaced by a reality that could easily be described as equally mad, to say the least.

"Coming!" He jumped out of bed. Not a good idea. The backslash of his headache was enough to floor a horde of elephants. "Eh…Just a minute!" The Doctor added. He really needed more time to pick up his brains from the floor.

"Lord Doctor?" The Vinvocci servant who had showed him his quarters yesterday was standing in the hallway, his green spikes twitching nervously. "I hope I have not disturbed you sir. But it's almost noon, you see, and my master has ordered me to make sure to serve you breakfast. Only, if I would wait a little longer, I would have failed in my task, because technically, it would be noon, and therefore anything eaten at that time would be lunch, so I thought…"

"Right, great, wonderful. I get it." The Doctor said, finding the servant's rambling insufferably loud for his poor hurting head. "Just leave it at the door and I'll tuck in a little later."

"Breakfast should be served in your room sir." The Vinvocci servant answered with a relieved little smile. "May I?"

The Doctor stepped aside and the servant brought in a huge trolly and rolled it to the table. He removed the cloth.

"What's all this?" The Doctor asked. "We're not having another dinner party, are we?" He added, alarmed and getting a weak feeling in his stomach.

"It's only breakfast sir." The servant replied cheerfully. "My Master told me to serve you an Earth breakfast, preferably from the European region, but he didn't specify from which timeframe. So I made a little bit of everything, just to be sure."

He started serving the plates of food on the table. The Doctor recognized bowls with cold spelt, cheese and honey porridge, a favorite of Roman times, an elaborate Victorian breakfast with pan-seared lams cutlets, devil's curry eggs, toast with marmalade and a good English cuppa, and something in a colorful carton box that seemed to be coming from a fastfood restaurant containing a burger with bacon and eggs, and many, many more dishes that were once invented to get you going after a long night of fasting, but wasn't exactly cheering up the Doctor right now.

"You've made a breakfast dish out of every time period of human history?" He said, astounded and utterly horrified by the sheer amount of food.

"I hope it will taste alright, I had to go to the Agora library to look up the recipes. And last but not least, this is the rehydrated fermented cowsmilk with grainbiscuits." The Vinvocci said, placing a plate with white and grey bricks in front of the Doctor's nose.

"Blimey, are you sure this is everything?" He asked in shock, while rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm afraid so." The Vinocci rubbed in his hands nervously. "I still have 15 minutes left. Should I make more sir?"

After breakfast was finally over, the rest of the afternoon took a more benevolent turn.

"My Master instructed me to act as your guide for today. Where would you like to go sir?"

The Doctor didn't need to think too long about it. "Where did you say you've found all those Earth's recipes again?"

"The great Agora library." The Vinvocci answered politely. "It contains all the knowledge of the inhabiting races, and is updated every month."

"Then that's where we're heading. A big juicy library filled with knowledge is exactly what my brains need right now." The Doctor answered.

**4.**

The great Agora library was in the public section of the crystal palace, and consisted of two dome-shaped halls, connected by a see-through tunnel. The Vinvocci servant, who was called Vinnie, bought him to the largest of the two. The Doctor found himself standing on a platform that circled around a great atrium. Behind him, the entire wall was lined by shelves stacked with datafiles, Two floors below, the floor was packed with similar shelves that stood in series of semi circles that dwindled in size as they came close to the center, which was kept open as a reading area. The same endless silver rows of datafiles filled the shelves. The Doctor leaned on the railing, admiring the view.

"Really, this is stunning." He said in awe. "Mind you, it is not as big as _the_ Library, but that was a whole planet filled with books, nothing can compare with that. Also, they had a pretty large antique paper collection that took in a lot of space." He turned and examined the silver spines on the cassettes. "This is what? Datafiles with each 1 to 2 yottabites worth of information? That equals a warehouse of paper documents. A street full of warehouses actually, and this place is filled up to the roof with it. I can spend days in here and not getting bored for a second." He told Vinnie, hopping on the tip of his shoes in excitement. "Or getting to find what I'll be looking for as a matter of fact." He added thoughtfully. "Must be hard to find that one specific copy of molecular imaging for dummies in here."

"It looks more daunting than it really is." Vinnie pointed out. "The entire library is linked to the Agora 1 mainframe computer. There are information consoles placed everywhere in the facility. It's all very easy and convenient. It was designed by our Lord Chancellor in such a way so it could serve the citizens of Agora most optimally. The great library holds all the knowledge of the thousands of different races that have joined our colony over the last 50 years. It's one of our greatest prides and we are very grateful that our lord Chancellor has granted us such a jewel."

"And everybody has access to the information?" The Doctor asked, cocking one eyebrow.

"Everyone who is colony member has certainly the right to do so. The Lord Chancellor believes that knowledge should be shared."

"Right." The Doctor said, giving it the benefit of the doubt for the moment. He still found it very hard to hear all the wonderful things this merciful and kind version of the Master had done without getting suspicious or bursting out in laughter of incredulity. "I think I've found my spot. You can leave me here for the rest of the afternoon, and I will be as happy as mouse who has fallen in a bucket of thick cream and swam into a piece floating cheese."

"I would if I could sir, but the Lord Chancellor has instructed me to take you out for lunch." Vinnie said, his spikes were twitching again. "We're running behind schedule."

It took the Doctor once again some time to convince Vinnie that he wasn't keen on stuffing himself every two hours, but eventually, the Vinvocci servant gave in and handed the Doctor a silver card.

"The Lord Chancellor thought you would probably like to roam through the archives. So he told me to give you this."

"What is this, his Lordship's library card?"

"Better than that. It's his personal holographic library assistant. Whatever information you would desire to look into, All you have to do is activate her by voice and she will find it for you."

"Activate by voice?" The Doctor asked, and was surprised to find a blue humanoid form materialize in front of him.

"Welcome to the great Agora archive. How may I serve you, lord Doctor?" Alpha Omega asked with a serene politeness.

The Doctor cocked another eyebrow and pointed at her.

"The Lord Chancellor has included your voice in the vocal password, and you just said the password…activate." Vinnie explained with a politely little grin.

The Doctor waited till the Vinnocci servant had left before he started addressing the blue assistant.

"How may I serve you, lord Doctor?" Alpha Omega repeated.

"I want to know everything about the Timewar." The Doctor whispered urgently. He didn't recognize Alpha Omega, which wasn't too strange since he had absolutely no recollection of her at all, and she was certainly not going to remind him of what he had forgotten. "I want to know when it started, important dates and events. Point me to those datafiles."

"No need. I can upload them and share them with you directly." And as she spoke, a beam of blue light hit the Doctor's forehead, bombarding his brains with all the facts of the history of the Timewar.

What the Doctor came to know shocked him profoundly.

There had been massive landslide alterations in Timewar history compared to what he remembered, which had taken place at crucial timepoints, changes in events that he had believed to be unchangeable, and had considered to be un-mutable facts. The length of the war was extended by more than four hundreds years, for it had not ended with the destruction of the Dalek empire and Gallifrey after the Doctor had used the Momentum to destroy them both and seal the war within a Timelock. In this version of reality, the Doctor had never been involved in the Timewar. In fact, he couldn't find a single reference to himself throughout the entire Timewar history. It was as if he had never existed, or had never made a difference. The Master, on the other hand, was so often mentioned in every single important event that defined the outcome of the war, that it was difficult for the Doctor to miss the bloody obvious. This version of the Timewar had lasted so much longer because the Master had meddled with it. He was the decisive factor that had changed the entire history and the way he had acted had helped to shape this new and mad world that Doctor had experienced for the last two days. A world in which the Daleks and the Timelords have signed an truce, paving way for a most uncomfortable peace between the two ancient enemies, which left the vital parts of the universe divided in two and the rest ravaged and exploited. Hence the creation of the Agora safety zone, a moral invention by the Timelords who saw it as their duty to offer protection to the other races who were so unfortunate to end up on the wrong site of the line.

"What about the truce? Tell me, why did the Daleks give up their bloody war and gave in?" The Doctor asked, unable to comprehend that those bloodless creatures would ever submit to something that was so weak and unforgivable in their eyes.

"You've requested information on the Saxon Treaty." Alpha Omega obliged. "The very foundation of the current status quo."

The blue holograph immediately started sharing the information with the Doctor, showing him the reason why the Daleks had banished their bloodthirsty war and had partially surrendered to their greatest enemies.

"They felt threatened." The Doctor muttered as the megabites were translated into knowledge by his grey matter. "We had something they didn't, and it scared the living daylight out of their stalky eyepieces. But what…what was it?"

His blue assistant showed him an image of a massive underground silo, much like the one he had encountered in the Nomad's cave that housed the Pharos receptor, only this one was much, much bigger. Incomprehensively large. And there was something stored inside, a construction made out of miles of steel tubes that came together in the massive chamber, and in the middle of that network of metal cylinders, sitting there like a fat content spider in it's own web, was something that made the Daleks and their bloodthirsty emperor quiver in their armor shields. Something horribly destructive, equivalent to the A-bomb during Earth's cold war period, only on a massive scale…The Timelord's secret weapon, that they had vowed, amongst themselves, never to use because activating it would simply mean the end of the universe itself…

"The Spear of Vela Pulsa?" The Doctor muttered, shooting an anxious look at Alpha-Omega. "What's that? I get the name and the political purpose, but the rest of the information is not really getting through here. It's all garbled. You've got to fill in the gaps for me."

"Information on the Spear of Vela Pulsa is restricted."

"What do you mean restricted?"

"You may not access information related to the design of the Spear of Vela Pulsa."

"What? And I thought that the Lord Chancellor has made everything accessible?"

"That's what they want you to believe."

The Doctor turned in the direction of that very familiar voice and stared right into the face of Martha Jones.

"Meanwhile, half of the information is kept under protection of the Timelord government. What are you looking for? I can tell you already that weapon design and molecular science is a no go." Martha said, as if she was addressing a stranger in need of help. "Just like engineering, meta physics, and practical mathematics. Actually, anything that's even remotely worth knowing is impossible to get your hands on."

The Doctor's jaw dropped. "M-Martha? Martha what are you doing here?"

Surprise flashed over her face. "I'm sorry but…Have we ever met?"

"You don't know me?" The Doctor asked.

"No mister. At least not that I can recall. I don't know your name."

The Doctor had to push his sense of panic and surprise all the way back to be able to speak to her.

"It's the Doctor." He said, forcing a smile and shaking her hand. "I'm sorry, you look like someone I know." He noticed the skeptical look on her face. "Actually, now that I take a better look at you, you don't look anything like her at all. It's those information transfers, they turn your brains into scrambled eggs."

"Right." She said, furrowing her brows. "Martha. Martha Jones. What I was trying to say is, you shouldn't waste your time on her." She nodded at Alpha-Omega. "She won't tell you anything worth knowing, she's just like the other consoles in this place. Only shows you the Timelord Chancellor's version of the truth. If you want to find some real information, you'll need to go look somewhere else." She pointed to a flyer that was taped on a nearby shelf. Strange, the Doctor hadn't notice it before. He grabbed it and read:

_To those of you who can no longer keep their eyes shut:_

_Tomorrow at midday, __meet us at the Agora forum_

It was signed RS. The Doctor suddenly experienced a flashback. He saw himself standing in the Tardis console room, staring down at the monitor that displayed an ominous message to him.

_Doctor,_

_Beware__ of the nightmare child._

_RS_

He blinked his eyes, confused by the strange memory he had regained. He didn't know what to make of it. He stared down at the piece of paper in his hand. "Hang on." He muttered, and gazed up at Martha. "What is this all about?" But Martha Jones was already halfway down the platform, heading for the stairs.

"Wait!" The Doctor yelled, and ran after her. "Martha! Martha Jones!"

Martha shot an anxious look at him while she readjusted her bag over her shoulder.

A couple of men in security uniforms stared at her as she passed by. One of them had a flyer in his hand that was similar to that of the Doctor's. Martha quickened her pace and rushed down the stairs with two steps at the time.

"Why are you running away?" The Doctor asked, granting her a dorky smile. "We've just met!" He suddenly slowed down his pace.

"Wait a minute…If you're here, and if this is some sort of expatriation camp for all the races who were so unfortunate to run into the Daleks. Then Earth must be…" He paused. Martha looked back at him with sadness in her eyes. "Oh…I'm sorry. Martha I am so, so sorry."

"It's no-ones fault, except for the Daleks." She said, bravely. "Besides, everybody here in this refugee solarsystem has a similar story to tell. What happens to me is nothing special. Look. You seem like a smart enough guy. I really have to go now, but if you agree with what was written on that pamphlet, go the meeting tomorrow afternoon. We can talk there." She shot a glance at the two security guards who were starting to head down the stairs in their direction.

"Miss! Can we see your bag please?" One of the guards ordered. Martha swirled around and started to run.

"Miss! Miss! Stop!"

But Martha wasn't planning to. She headed down into the maze of datashelves and turned the corner where she bumped right into a young Curby alien, tripping over one of his many slippery tentacles. Her bag flew open, spilling the paper content all over the floor.

The Doctor picked up a couple of them. They were flyers with rebellious messages that were very similar to that what he had just read before. They were all signed RS.

Martha scrambled back up, grabbed her bag, and dashed out of the library, leaving a very stunned Doctor to deal with the guards.

**5.**

The Master's conference room at the 431st floor of the crystal tower had a grand floor to ceiling window that looked out over the palace complex and the nearby orbiting planets. He had personally selected and placed the most colorful and beautiful of them closest to the artificial sun to obtain the stunning view. The Master was a perfectionist, some people might even call it pathologic, the way he could be so obsessed by the smallest of details, but for the Master, the many wheels that turned the system must be designed, checked and oiled by its creator, if it was to function without flaw. So many decisions concerning the everyday life of the colony was made in the chamber while the Master was holding his closed audience with his advisors. But today was not a day for small decisions. Today, there were guests.

The Doctor didn't know that the glass wall that divided the hallway from the conference room was specially created to shield off holographic signals, very much like a 20th century office room was made soundproof to prevent eavesdropping. He didn't see the seven figures that were projected in 3D inside, and he didn't know that the Master was in the middle of addressing them in defense of his cause. All he knew, was that he really wanted to know what the message on the flyer was about, and that a whole army of people, ranging from mousy secretaries to buffed up security guards had tried to stop him from coming up to his office. He had shut down the elevators with a whirr of the sonic screwdriver, which should give him ample time before the guards arrive.

"For the last time sir, the Lord Chancellor is in the middle of a very important meeting, you shouldn't disturb him!" The Master's secretary said while tip-toeing backwards on her high heels as the Doctor continued to push through.

"Nah. He doesn't look too busy to me." Indeed, from his point of view, all he saw was the Master, standing there with two of his advisors, while leaning idly with both hands on the table.

"Besides, he wouldn't mind me busting in to have a little chat." The Doctor pushed open the glass doors with both hands. The advisors turned their heads, looking utterly shocked. The Master stopped talking in midsentence and gazed at his old friend as if he had just grown an extra head.

"Sorry. Really sorry. I know you're busy and all, but I need to borrow him for a sec." The Doctor grabbed hold of the Master and literally pulled him out of the conference room by his sleeve, much to the outrace of the two lord advisors.

"Should we call security sir?" One on them asked, with his finger already on the intercom button.

The Master immediately shook his head. "I know this man. It wouldn't help. Continue the briefing on the ration conditions. I'm sure the Doctor wouldn't need more than a minute of my precious time." He added sourly, and looked accusingly at him.

"What were you thinking?" The Master hissed after he made sure that the doors behind him were closed and those inside could not follow their conversation. "You can't just march in there and drag me out of an important meeting!"

"I need to ask you something." The Doctor reacted equally sternly.

"Well whatever it is, it can wait." The Master was about to head back inside when the Doctor pushed the crumbled flyer in his hands.

"What is this?" The Master said, unfolding the piece of paper.

"You tell me. You're the lord Chancellor."

The Master quickly read it through. "It's an pamphlet handed out by some bothersome activists." He sneered. " This is hardly worth my time."

"They're accusing the Timelord government, and in this place I suppose it automatically means you, of herding up information. Information that you have claimed, would be made publically available to everybody."

"They want the information on how to build weapons. I don't need to explain you, of all Timelords, what a really bad idea it would be to allow those idiots to get their hands on a couple of blueprints for nuclear missiles, now do I?" The Master replied.

"Now why do they need to act like that?" The Doctor pressed on. "They're refugees. They shouldn't be rebelling against the very people who have saved their lives, unless there is a good reason of course."

"They're a bunch of unthankful terrorists, that's why." The Master angrily crumbled up the flyer into a ball before throwing it back at the Doctor. Although very different from the Master the Doctor had known, he still easily lost his temper. "And I would advise you to stay out it, Doctor!" He pointed out.

"That's really for me to decide, isn't it?" The Doctor said defiantly, and stared the Master right in the eyes.

The Master silently stared back at him, and slowly, very slowly, counted back from 10. Then he turned and went back to the meeting.

The Doctor faced the Master's secretary, who was backed-up by two beefcake security guards with a really pissed off look on their faces for having to climb up an epic 431 floors worth of stairs.

He threw them one of his oddball smiles and held up his hands in surrender. "Alright then! Now you can throw me out now!"

**6.**

The Master stepped back inside the boardroom with a troubled expression lingering on his face and with his mind caught up in thoughts when a voice, dark and sinister, came from the other side of the room.

"Lord Master. I trust your friend the Doctor won't meddle in our affairs."

The Master gazed up at the head figure sitting in the middle of the group of high Timelord counselors. The gilded neck-armor and the dark crimson robe that he wore with great poise and arrogance accentuated his already impressive tall frame. His metal gauntlet sheeted hand rested on the table and tapped impatiently on the desktop. The group of seven simmered as the solar flares of the artificial sun caused disturbances in the holovid broadcast.

"No Lord President. The Doctor doesn't know anything." The Master replied, glancing sideways through the glass wall and suppressing a sigh of relief when he saw that his friend was taken away by the security guards who had proven, in his opinion, to be completely useless.

"Let him remain so. Let me remind you that the true utilization of the Beacon of Pharos should remain a secret for Agora's general population. Only the few good men inside this chamber are fully informed. And I trust every one of them to keep this to themselves." He glared at the Master. "Don't lose my trust, Lord Master, or you will find it a very hard thing to regain."

"You have my word sir." The Master replied as calmly as possible.

"What about the rebels, won't they cause trouble? I've heard reports that their numbers were growing rapidly and that they were recruiting new members in broad day light in the forum by deluding the new arrivals."

"I won't let that happen again. Tomorrow at noon, they have planned a gathering, but everyone who dares to speak in favor of the Rebel Squadron will be arrested for public disturbances. I won't give them any excuses to organize a riot, not when we are getting so close to our goal. Lord president."

Rassilon nodded firmly. "Tell me, is the signal still intact?"

"Yes. It has maintained relative stable for the last two days. According to our calculations, the blue planet should arrive with the refugees within 3 days."

"Most excellent!" The Lord president beamed. "We have been searching the skies for decades! Now, finally, the ancient secrets of the Phenicians are within our grasp. Soon this enforced, most uncomfortable truce with the Dalek abomination shall be over, and the Timelord's era of peace and enlightenment can finally begin." Rassilon gazed over the table at the Master, his eyes burning with glorified delusions. "You and your trusted advisors, Lord Master, can be assured that soon, all of your tireless efforts and sacrifices will be rewarded." He said in a soothing voice that never failed to remove the worries from the Master's mind.

"You are our redeemer Lord Master. The savior of Gallifrey, and we shall not forget what you've done for us on the most glorious day in which we will achieve the Final Solution."

The Master, standing a little taller, and fully aware of every heartbeat that rattled inside his chest while his hearts filled with pride, bowed to his superior. "I promise my lord president. Your most loyal servant will not disappoint."

The thin smile that appeared on the Rassilon's face was cold and calculative.

My most loyal indeed." He said, and leaned back into the shadows.

**7.**

When the angry knocks came at his door, he didn't exactly need to guess who was waiting for him outside in the corridor.

"Did you only come back to make me look like a complete fool?" The Master sneered when he finally answered the door.

"Did I?" The Doctor asked, pulling an innocent face. "It wasn't so bad, was it? Those two guys in those funny robes were working for you. They look clever enough not to laugh and point at their superior."

"And why didn't you show up for diner? I invited you. I sent out a servant to get you. _Twice_. It's only good manners to oblige me." The Master said, clearly offended.

"Nah, I really have my belly full of diner parties. After last night, I wouldn't go to one even if I'm dragged by a four-span of horses. Not that it has anything to do with you." The Doctor added, suddenly having a vivid mental picture of the dream version of the Master, wearing a flowery apron and yielding a spatula. "Actually, it's got everything to do with you, but I guess I better not mention why."

The Master grinned sourly. "Why is it that every time you open your mouth, there is some piece of garbage information dumped on me that I find impossible to understand." He grunted.

"It's called random brilliance, which is easily misunderstood for madness." The Doctor grinned. "Or garbage, if you're really that ignorant."

The Doctor let the Master inside and closed the door behind him.

"Doctor." The Master said, pacing around like a troubled lion at the zoo. "I don't know what's going on in that mind of yours, but I can assure you. I am still your friend."

"I know." The Doctor said quietly, looking sharply at him, realizing that it was his clumsy way of offering an apology.

"What I meant this afternoon, when I was shouting at you, was that I don't want you to get into trouble. Don't go meddle with those rebels, it's dangerous."

"They signed the flyer with the letters R and S. Now what does that mean?" The Doctor asked strictly, without giving in.

"RS, the Rebel Squadron, that's what they call themselves." The Master explained reluctantly, getting irritated by the Doctor's persistence. "That and the Vaudevillian Veterans of Vigilance and Virtuousness, vowed and vexed on vanquishing the Violent Vicious Vermin vice that is the Timelord race. Personally, I though the last name was more catching, but I suppose it would have given them trouble to get it all fitted on a bottom of an average sized pamphlet." He noticed the strange look the Doctor was giving him. The Master sighed. "It was a little joke." He added dryly. "Although I suddenly remember that I shouldn't bother. You and I, we never shared a similar sense of humor, did we?"

"I remember receiving a message from them. At least I think it's from them. It it was signed with RS. They tried to warn me."

"Where did you get this?"

"Inside the Tardis, when I was traveling through the timevortex."

"Then you can forget about it being them. They're nowhere near being this sophisticated to be able to transmit a signal that far." The Master replied, waving dismissively.

"Well they can't because you and the other Timelords keep all the technology under lock and key." The Doctor criticized.

"Is there any point in your accusations? Doctor? Or do you find it hard to get my attention otherwise?"

"I accessed the mainframe database using the library connections today. I tried to find out more about the truce between the Daleks and the Timelords, but stumbled by accident on something that seemed far more important to know about, because it was so heavily censored. What is the Spear of Vela Pulsa and what does it exactly do? Why are the Daleks so afraid of it?"

An angry sort of hopelessness washed over the Master.

"You just can't let it go, can you? Ever since we were children, you're always asking these bothersome questions. Really, why can't you just accept things as they are?"

"You were asking questions too when you were younger." The Doctor objected. "I was not the only one who was driving the teachers mad."

"Yes, and I stopped doing that. You know why? Because I've learned something important. Life has taught me that it was better to accept the status quo than to swim against the tide. I stayed behind on Gallifrey and accepted my responsibilities, instead of you Doctor, who was so _very_ brave to ran away from it!"

"Oh give me a second chance and I will do exactly the same again." The Doctor sneered back.

"You're absolutely impossible!" The Master yelled, finally losing his calm. "Why do you keep picking on the details, these insignificant little imperfections? Can't you see the bigger picture, all the good that we have done? Didn't the Timelords take in those races that were threatened by the Daleks? Didn't we offer them protection and shelter in times of need?" He leaned to the Doctor, their faces so close that they were almost touching. "Let me remind you Doctor, only me and the Timelord army is what is still left standing between those lucky fools and their destruction."

"There is something more to this." The Doctor replied, shaking his head determinedly. "I know the Timelords, and I know you. It doesn't matter which version of reality we're in. No matter how twisted the course of our lives have become, you wouldn't do something unless it benefits you. Even if the drums have never poisoned your mind, you're still an egocentric, overambitious idiot."

"It's got nothing to do with the drums!" The Master said firmly, trembling with anger. "It was just once." He waved a single finger in front of the Doctor's nose. "Once I heard it, and never ever again!"

The Doctor studied the Master closely. Mentioning the drums had certainly further upset him.

The Master ran his hands over his face. He sat down on the bed, forcing himself to calm down. "I can't understand you, all of this mistrust and resentment. Where does it all come from? We've just run into eathother again after hundreds of years." He paused for a moment. "I thought we were still friends."

Suddenly the Doctor recalled how he had spoken to him on Martha's mobile, back on Earth in that year of the Saxon elections, He remembered how relieved he was to once again hear his voice and sense his presence again. He wouldn't be able to forget that, even if the current version of the Master would turn out to betray him.

The Master looked up at the ceiling, avoiding the Doctor's gaze."Perhaps, too much has happened in these long years for us to remain so."

"You don't know how right you are about that." The Doctor muttered.

**8.**

The Agora forum was a busy place, packed with merchants who jealously guarded every inch of their stands, and tried to grab the attention of everyone who passed by and looked remotely like a potential customer. Combine this with the noise, the pollution and all the traffic that hardly moved any quicker than two mating snails, added up with a thousand or so newcomers who stood in line in front of the naturalization hall waiting for get their new ID cards, and you have a recipe for disaster for anyone who tried to track down a friend in the crowd.

The Doctor found it especially difficult to find someone who was hanging around long enough to allow him to finish giving him the directions he needed before the friendly local was swept away by the massive tide of people.

"Excuse me!" He yelled, trying again for the third time. "Could you please tell me where to find the meeting for the Rebel Squadron? They're supposed to meet here!"

Someone who had caught at least two of his three sentences of his question stuck a hand up and pointed at the north-side of the forum, mouthing _that way!_, before he was pushed out of sight.

Thanks! The Doctor mouthed back, waving frantically to thank him, and tried to swim his way through the tangle of arms and torsos. He passed by the promenade and noticed that the columns were covered with flyers, each of them signed with the rebel's symbol. When he came close, he saw a large crowd gathered around a group of men and women, all dressed in black army suits. Six of them were humans, four others were not. They didn't carry any weapons, but were handing out the flyers fervently. Raised above the others, on a small wooden stand that served as a platform, stood Martha Jones. She was addressing a Vispanian alien in the audience.

"What about food?" The alien asked. "If we take part in any protests against the Timelords, they will cut short on our rations."

Coinciding murmurs arose from the others. "Yeah, and we're starving already as it is. There are too many new refugees. There is not enough food for everyone."

"I say we should protest, and make those stuck-up Timelords close the borders! We certainly don't want any more new immigrants to cramp up the place and drain our resources!" Someone yelled at the back.

"Blimey, someone stepped out at the selfish side of the bed this morning." The Doctor muttered to himself, half turning to see who that crazy idiot was.

"Yeah. That's it!" The Vispanian argued. "I don't mind sticking my head out, but it better be for a good cause!"

"People please!" Martha shouted, trying to raise her voice above the crowd's. "We're not here to discuss the shortage of food, and we are certainly not going to plead to the Timelords to shut down the borders for new refugees! Don't any of you remember why we are here? We were driven out by the Daleks, our people hunted down to near extinction! Don't you remember how desperate we were? And how lucky we are to have this place? How could you possible want this only hope to be taken away from others?"

Martha looked the Vispanian right in the eyes, and although the man was at least two heads taller than her, her determination forced him to bow his head in shame.

"And if you ask for a good cause, what better cause to serve than freedom?" Martha continued. "Freedom to have access to knowledge that all of us have contributed to and actually belongs to our ancestors. Freedom to think for ourselves and to find out the truth."

The Doctor stared at her, his eyes wide and his chest almost bursting with pride. "Oh bravo!" He clapped, grinned at the others. "Bravo! Bravo Martha Jones, I've been worried about you, what you would become if I weren't around, but you…you have turned out to be absolutely magnificent!" The Doctor said, beaming a proud smile at her.

"Who the hell are you?" The Vispanian asked, eying the Doctor as if he was something that he had just found stuck underneath his shoe.

"Me? Oh, I'm the Doctor and I happen to be a Timelord." He jumped on top of the platform and stood next to Martha, wrapping an arm around her shoulder like they were the best of buddies. The rebels and the gathered crowd, who didn't exactly have expected anyone who they considered to be their oppressive lord and master to show up at the meeting, looked up uneasily at him. Some of the people were already starting to back down, trying to avoid trouble.

"Oh don't go!" The Doctor said disappointedly, totally oblivious of what kind of effect he had. "She's not finished yet! We got tons to discuss. Hey! Come back!"

"What are you doing here?" Martha hissed.

"Well you invited me. You told me to come if I wanted to find out more about the information that was missing in the library. So…Here I am!" The Doctor replied, waving hello at her.

"I didn't know that you were a Timelord." Martha furrowed her brows. "You guys look too much like us when you're not strutting about in your robes."

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters. Look at them." She gestured at the crowd around the platform that was getting thinner by the minute. "They're scared of you."

"Me?" The Doctor said, astonished. "But I was just being nice!"

"I've to ask you to leave. You're disrupting our meeting." Martha said sternly.

The Doctor was about to protest, when a commotion started at the back. Martha's eyes went wide in alert when she saw a troop of Timelord soldiers wading through the sea of people, heading in their direction. Unlike the rebels, they were armed to the teeth.

"Ah, that's also something I wanted to tell you about." The Doctor said, dreading the panic it would cause.

"You brought them here?" Martha wiped his arm from her shoulder. "You have no right to arrest us!" She told him furiously. "I went through the regulations and we are fully entitled to gather at the forum for meetings!"

"Listen Martha." He said, getting more worried by the minute. "I've got nothing to do with this, but I probably know the man who sent out those guys, and let me tell you, he's not too keen on you lot." He nodded at the other rebels. "You should get out of here. All of you!"

A Timelord soldier in front of the troops, who was halfway through the crow and had a clear range, aimed his lasergun at Martha.

The Doctor took Martha's hand, pulling her down the platform. A blast exploded right above their heads, sending the Doctor's eardrums ringing.

Martha peered up and saw the black smoke bellowing from the wreckage above them. Her mouth dropped open. "I can't believe they just did that!"

"Oh I think they are pretty capable of about anything, but that's a long story, a good one though, I might tell you one day, when we make it out of here alive." He winked at her and told her to run.

The entire forum was now in a state of panic, people shooting away in every direction as the Timelords troops made their way across the forum, parting the crowd as if it was the red sea. One of them started to address the frightened public with an amplifier.

"Citizens of Agora I. Stay calm! We're here to restore order and capture the terrorist leaders of the Rebel Squadron! We expect your full cooperation. Anyone who has anything to do with the Rebels will be arrested on grounds of high treason on orders of our Lord Chancellor!"

"Oh Master…" The Doctor hissed angrily under his breath. "What have you done now." He kept running away from the burning platform as fast as possible, dragging Martha in his wake.

"Everyone who offers a threat to public order and resist arrest shall be shot." The Timelord commander added.

"They can't be serious." Martha panted. "They just can't!"

Gunshots ripped through the air, and the people around her started to scream.

The Doctor didn't turn around but kept pushing forward with his head bowed below the crowd. They reached an abandoned apartment block at the edge of the forum. "In here." He finally told her, and they both slipped through a narrow crack in a doorway that was barred with wooden beams. Behind them, the entire world just went mad.

_**TBC**_

_**Next chapter will be posted the 28th of august, and as always, reviews and comments are most welcome.**_

_**H**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: Once again, big thanks to Koscheithepianist for beta-reading the chapter.**

**Chapter 4**

**1.**

The ground floor of the abandoned building turned out to be an old diner, with a rundown bar and stuffy seats and table arrangements, all covered under a thick layer of dust and grime. The Doctor sat on the floor with his back against the wooden paneling of the bar with Martha next him. They had been hiding for the last six hours and it was already getting dark outside, but still they could hear the Timelord commander shout through the amplifier from time to time, reminding the good citizens of Agora I to not hide any members of the rebel squadron.

"I can't believe this." Martha muttered softly, still quite shaken by the previous experience. It was the first sentence she had spoken in hours. "They just opened fire like…like they were facing a troop of armed enemy soldiers." She looked up at the Doctor who was testing an old chocolate bar that he had found for its potential to serve as supper. One lick was enough to make him decide that it wasn't exactly suitable for consumption.

"This thing tastes like soap." He muttered disapprovingly, pulling a face and rubbing his tongue over his sleeves. "Oh wait." He peered at the wrapper. "This_ is_ soap. Fancy that!" He told Martha with a big dorky grin. "A bar of soap that's made to look like a chocolate bar! Ha! The crazy things they come up with these days!"

Martha stared at him like he's gone mad.

"The world outside is ending and you're shocked by a novelty soap bar?"

"Oh the world isn't ending, it's serious alright, but at least it's not _that _serious." The Doctor sighed. "I should know. I've been to a couple of world endings, and it's usually a lot hotter than this."

"I don't even know where my friends are." Martha muttered, ignoring the Doctor's weird rambles. "Things happened so fast. I hope they didn't get themselves killed."

"Don't worry, those soldiers only received orders to do the necessary arrests and to scare the crowd back into submission. Those shots you heard were just warning shots, they could have easily hit someone but they didn't. But of course, people are still getting thrown in jail. That's bad enough."

"It's all my fault." She said, ruefully. "I never should have rallied them up for a demonstration. I mean, what's the point? That purple guy in the front row was right. I should have kept my stupid mouth shut!"

"Oh no. No, you absolutely shouldn't!" The Doctor said, horrified that she would even contemplate it. "What's the matter with this place?" He said, knitting his dark brows together. "Everybody I know who normally wouldn't take anything for granted even if was written in stone have all suddenly turned conforming. I know alternative universes can sometimes be comical like that, but this is on a whole different level than, let's say, the reality in which there are more left handed people than right handed people, or the alternative universe in which people have wet doggy noses. What is this, a universe in which everyone has suddenly lost their backbone?"

"What are rambling about?" Martha replied, more desperate than angry. "Don't you see that we're in trouble? Well I'm in trouble. You're a Timelord. Someone is bound to bust you out if you get arrested."

The Doctor thought of the Master and decided that she was probably right. He better not mention this to her.

"So, what's your story then? Why were you looking in the library for the heavily censured stuff? Being one of them, don't you automatically have access anyway?" Martha asked.

"We're not all privileged, just because we happen to be Timelords." The Doctor thought about her reaction for a moment. "Actually, what you just implied was pretty racist." He added, a bit offended.

"I caught your data-transfer with the digital librarian when I accidentally walked through your information beam." Martha continued. "You were trying to access information on the Spear of Vela Pulsa, didn't you?"

"Yep, I was. You don't happen to know anything about it?" He half-joked, while stretching his legs and sweeping his arms over his head. Sitting still for hours wasn't easy for him.

"Well, as it happens." Martha rummaged through her backpack and fished out a folded piece of paper. "I know a thing or two about it, yeah."

The Doctor looked pleasantly surprised.

"I know someone who maintains the solar colony's sewage system for a living." She carefully folded out the paper over the floor, revealing a map of the underground consisting of a complex labyrinth of tubes and tunnels. "One of the tunnels around the palace collapsed last week and he was sent out to do the necessary repair work. His boss told him to use one of those sonar scanners to make sure that he wasn't going to hit any old pipelines once they started drilling. When he switched it on, the scanner detected a whole network of corridors containing a huge amount of metal that stretched over the entire area underneath the solar complex. When we looked into it, we also detected massive energy surges, running into the direction of the palace underground." Martha pointed at a spot on the map that was marked with a red X. "It's going right there, to a location straight underneath the Beacon of Pharos where the energy readouts suddenly vanish. My friends and I made plans to go and investigate, but I guess that's never going to happen now." She added, not without regret.

"Oh I wouldn't say that. Everything looks pretty well connected." The Doctor said, scratching the back of his head. "If we are able to get into the sewers, we can head straight to the palace in one go."

"But how are we supposed to get down there? You want to stick your head in the toilet and see if you can flush yourself?" Martha said with slight irritation in her voice.

The Doctor gave her a very strange look.

"I'm sorry. I didn't…Never mind. Just tell me what you want to do, and I will help."

"Well, we're certainly not going to try _that_, although I must say, what I had in mind does come close." The Doctor answered, raising an eyebrow at her as he got up. "Ah! Look at that. Lucky us!" He exclaimed as he improvised on the spot. "They've been busy trying to tear down this place in the old-fashioned way, with lots of sweat, muscle, elbow grease and this!" He picked up a heavy looking hammer from a forgotten corner and beamed a dazzling smile at Martha.

"This should do nicely." He said.

**2.**

Seated on his throne, the Master had been listening to the lord Valkory's report on the Nomads scientific transfer for over half an hour now. Before that, he had a council meeting with the elders of the six most influential races in the Agora colony, and had listened to their petitions for at least half an hour each. Still, if you would ask him to summarize what he had heard this afternoon, the Master would not be able to recall a single word. The reason why he failed to pay any attention to his advisors, was because he was too occupied to stare at what appeared to the others as an empty spot in the center of the great hall, and had become more and more anxious about the strange phenomenon as the afternoon crawled by.

The others have noticed the Lord Chancellor's strange behavior, and malignant rumors of tiredness and stress were already spreading like wildfire around the court. None of them, of course, could see what the Master saw, and didn't have to endure what he endured.

"Enough!" The Master suddenly yelled, jumping right out of his seat as if bitten by insects, his eyes stayed focused on the invisible thing in the middle of the chamber. His subjects stared silently at their lord.

"My lord Chancellor?" Valkony asked hesitantly.

"I.." The Master stood frozen on top of the platform while beads of cold sweat rolled down his temples. He blinked his eyes, hoping that the ghostly vision would finally cease, but no matter how hard he wished it away, or how many times he shut his eyes and opened them again, it kept haunting him.

_She_ kept haunting him.

He muttered something that sounded like a half-hearted excuse, and left the reception hall in a great hurry, leaving his subordinates very much in doubt of his lordship's sanity.

Rushing down the corridors, he ran into his wife Anne, who caught and steadied him in her hands.

"What's wrong?" She asked, instantly worried after one look at his face. "Are you ill, my lord? You look horrible."

"'It's…I've seen her again Anne!" His voice quivered, and he licked over his dry lips nervously. "The little girl I told you about, the one who keeps coming back to haunt me in my dreams, she was in the great reception hall, standing right underneath the dome in bright daylight!"

"Easy now love. Easy. It's just a fearful vision. Did you try to look away, or blink your eyes?"

"Of course I tried!" He hissed. "I tried all of those things! It didn't help! I'm telling you Anne, she keeps following me around! She's driving me _insane_!" The Master whispered, pressing his fingers on the sides of his head in desperation. Anne gently cupped his cheeks. "Look at me love, look at me. Calm down. Don't do this. Don't lose your calm in front of the court." She stroked over his damp hair.

"Now…Look around. She's no longer following you, is she?"

The Master glanced fearfully over her shoulder down the corridor in the direction of the grand hall. It was blissfully empty. He shook his head and let out a sigh of relief. Anne gently brushed a strand of hair away from his face.

"See? She's gone, like a frightful shadow, fleeing for the light at the break of dawn. There's no need to be afraid."

She whispered his name to him while the Master held her tight, keeping her close to him and burying his face in her long, swanlike neck. "Oh don't let go." He rasped. "Just…hold me a little longer." He took in the scent of his beloved wife, her sweet sweat with the frail scent of lavender, and closed his eyes. For the first time since the little girl had appeared, his troubled and frightened hearts found a rare moment of peace.

**3.**

It took them some time to break out the toilet pot and make a hole big enough to squeeze through, but by the time the forum was cleared for the night, Martha and the Doctor both found themselves in the underground sewers, well on their way to their secret destination.

"We should have tried one of those manholes to get in." The Doctor said, sniffing his coat and wrinkling up his nose. "I'm sure this strange toilet duck smell is going to stick on me like bees to a beehive. Might as well throw these away now." He added sourly. He felt the wetness soak inside his trainers as they sloshed through the tunnels, wading against the foul smelling brown stream. "Actually, I might as well go look for a complete new outfit." He sighed.

Martha stared at the strange tall man for a moment, wondering not for the last time where on Earth this wacky Timelord came from.

"Look, I must apologize to you. I shouldn't have been that rude back in the diner. My mother has taught me better than this. There's no excuse for bad manners, even if you are a Timelord." She told him.

"Your mom? Oh, you know, I can actually imagine her saying that. She can be quite strict." The Doctor smiled, remembering how frightening Martha's mother could be sometimes, but then again, most his of companion's mothers were. "How is she? How is the rest of your family?"

"Dead." Martha answered, without so much as looking at him. She kept going, keeping her eyes on the path ahead of them.

"Oh." The Doctor felt a painful sting in his hearts. "I'm really sorry." He said, realizing, not without grief, how often he had already used those words in this strange, twisted version of reality. The longer he stayed, the more he became conscious of the fact that this was how a universe without his interference would have turned out to be, and it only made him feel more responsible. His Timelord instinct told him that he hadn't just disappeared through a hole in the timevortex and rolled into another, more frightening parallel universe. This was _his _universe. He belonged here. Something had gone horribly wrong with it that somehow involved the Master being who he was…and it regretfully had affected Martha and her family in the most tragic way.

"You don't need to say sorry. It's got nothing to do with the Timelords anyway." Martha said quietly. "My mum and dad, they died on the very first day the Daleks invaded Earth. They were doing Christmas shopping when the Daleks blew up Oxford Street and wiped half the city London from the map."

Martha told her story like it was a blunt fact, as if it was something she had learned by heart, like numbers from a table. She had to deal with her parents' death this way, otherwise she wouldn't be able to carry on by her own. "It was the first time they did anything together for a long time. I was so glad for mom. I actually had hoped that they were getting back together again. I've never thought of losing them both." She fell silent for a moment. A fat rat scrambled away before her feet and scuttled up a pipeline.

"My sister Tisch and my brother Leo, they went out to look for them. I was a medical trainee in Saint George Hospital at the time, and after the first explosions, injured and dying people were rushed into the ER by the minute. It was absolutely horrible, and when I finally had Leo on the phone I urged them to stay where they were and not come to the city center. They didn't listen of course. Tisch never listens." A sad smile curled her lips that quickly faded as the found memories of her sister were replaced by the ache of her loss.

"They never found their bodies. Not of my parents, nor those of Tisch or Leo. There were stories though, horrible stories, that the Daleks had rounded everybody up, and those they didn't kill were deported to their spaceships. They said that they processed them, turned them into one of them to strengthen their numbers. I hate those stories, just can't believe that they are true." Martha paused, staring at the grime on her boots, she needed a moment to compose herself.

"It's not true, is it?" She gazed at the Doctor, her large brown eyes rimmed with tears. "Please tell me it isn't."

The Doctor stared back at that beautiful kind face, and his hearts were struck by sorrow.

"No, it's not." He lied.

Martha looked at him for a moment. "You're a very bad liar." She finally said, and picked up her pace.

"Martha." The Doctor called, rushing after her.

"It's all my fault." Martha said softly, hot tears were running down her face. "I was supposed to be the doctor in the family, and I couldn't save any of them. I was too chicken-shit to go out to find them. I stayed in the hospital and kept telling myself that I was needed at my post, while outside, my entire family was being massacred!"

"Martha, it wasn't your fault." The Doctor pulled her by her arm. She spun around, her eyes filled with a world of hurt. He knew he shouldn't, but couldn't bear to see her like this any longer.

"What if I told you that this, none of this should have ever happened?" He said. "Would you believe me?"

"What?" Martha sniffed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the Daleks, and the Timelords, the destruction of Earth, the Agora refugee zone, and the murder of your family. What if I told you that none of it should have happened at all?"

"I would tell you that you're crazy but probably in a much better place than the most of us." Martha replied, quickly wiping away her tears.

"Oh wonderful, beautiful, skeptical Martha Jones." He told her. "Your mother, Francine, she is one of the bravest and most scary woman I've ever met. She calls you at least once a day, even if there's nothing going on and she only lives half an hour away from your flat, she still calls because she loves hearing your voice. That's how much she loves you. Your sister Tisch, she's supposed to be your big sister, but you think of her of your little sis and care about her the same way because she is always getting herself into trouble. And then there's your little brother, Leo –"

She stared at the Doctor, her brown eyes wide in amazement. "How do you know this?"

"I told you. I know you. Somewhere and sometime in that other universe, you and I have met and were really good friends. And I came to know, admire and love you for the wonderful person that you are."

"But that would mean that you're from some kind of alternative universe." She studied the Doctor with an incredulous look on her face before she slowly shook her head. "Oh no, that's just too crazy. You could have dug up that information from the Timelord archive. You could have found their names in there, it doesn't really prove anything."

"You wanted to become a doctor."

"Now I told you that, didn't I?"

"You wanted to become a doctor because when you were little, you fell off the swing in your uncle's garden. Your mother and Leo took you to the hospital and the doctor made an x-ray of your injured arm. The moment he showed it to you, and you saw that ghostly image of your own bones, you were absolutely fascinated, and you knew that you wanted to become a doctor. You have worked very hard to become a good doctor ever since."

"Please. Stop it." Martha said softly, looking away.

They walked side by side in the dark. The Doctor started to regret that he had mentioned Martha's old life to her. He had wanted to lift her spirit and give her a little bit of hope, but instead, the thought of what she had lost had only shaken her resolve.

They reached the end of the sewage tunnels. A round concrete tube, which was large enough for them to stand upright in, went in the direction of the palace. Rusty gates prohibited entrance. Just when Martha was about to turn the corner, the Doctor pushed her back and pointed at a security camera hidden away in the ceiling. He put his fingers on his lips, took out his sonic, and fired. A puff of smoke followed when the beam hit the lens and short-circuited the wiring. He then quickly unlocked the gates with the same ease and they went inside.

"So." Martha said softly as she walked beside him. "I know it's bonkers to believe any of it, but if it's true what you've told me…"

"Uhuh." The Doctor mumbled, arching his head and scanning the ceiling for any more hidden cameras. "Sorry, wasn't really paying attention, but yes?"

"Can you stop them?" Martha asked hopefully.

"Stop who?"

"The Daleks." Martha sighed. "And the Timelords. Can you make everything better than it is right now? Can you do that?"

Martha didn't know why she was asking him this. This weird and wonderful man, who had just stumbled into her life, except for his name and the fact that he was a Timelord, she didn't know anything about him. But there was a strange familiarity about the Doctor, and it had given her such comfort to hear him speak about her beloved family, about her. It was as if she could trust him, and really, _really_ knew him.

The Doctor answered her question with a wide smile. "You know, I believe I can." He said, and gave her a little wink.

**4.**

The tunnel quickly narrowed into something resembling a ventilation shaft in which they could barely squeeze their way through.

"Whatever is hidden down here, it produces a lot of heat." The Doctor grunted, after they had crawled through the narrow claustrophobic space for what seemed to be ages. "I'm practically bathing in my own sweat in here."

Martha, who was crawling close behind him, wrinkled her nose in response, but lucky for her, they finally stumbled on a grid that emerged into an open space on the other side. The fittings were rusted through and soon the Doctor had the grid fiddled loose and dropped it on the floor in a loud clatter. There was no place to turn, and it was a bit difficult to slip out headfirst, but eventually they managed to get out. They were standing in a long corridor that seemed to stretch out for miles in each direction. A large metal cylinder ran right through it, and the Doctor went over to investigate.

"What's this?" Martha asked curiously. "It looks like a massive water pipe."

"No doubt it isn't." The Doctor said, whirring his sonic screwdriver over the steel surface and inspecting the readings. "Unless the Master forgot the mention his ocean sized pool he keeps in the cellar. This thing is transporting energy. Massive amounts of it."

"Who the heck is the Master?" Martha asked. "And why should he have a swimming pool down here?"

"Oh never mind him. We've got something big to crack." The Doctor said, clapping his hands, he jumped back up and started to run in the direction of where the energy flow was heading. He was about fifty feet away when he noticed that his companion was lagging behind.

"Aren't you coming?" He shouted back. Martha shook her head sternly. "Not if you don't tell me who that Master bloke is." She told him. Somehow she realized that it actually did matter.

The Doctor sighed and scratched behind his ear. "Alright." He muttered after a moment of hesitation. "But you have to promise not to freak out if I tell you. And I don't want to hear any of that racist Timelord stuff either, you understand?" He pointed out.

Martha granted him a broad smile and ran after the Doctor.

"Right then, spill the beans." She told him. They were jogging through the corridor with a healthy speed. Martha was barely able to keep up with him.

"Actually, I can keep it short. The Master is the Timelord Chancellor. He is, or was an old friend of mine. Now, satisfied?"

"Not really! He's your friend? Our Lord Chancellor? The guy who censors about everything and who had just sent out his troops to kill us? You've got a lot more explaining to do than this, mister!"

"I told you, they were not trying to kill anyone. It was just a cautionary operation to keep the population from causing trouble."

"Oh like that really makes the difference! Next thing I know, you're gonna tell me he's actually a very warm and caring person."

The Doctor didn't answer her. The corridor was flying past him, and he felt each heartbeat resonate in his head while hot blood rushed through his veins. Flashes of memory started to come back to him. In his mind, he saw the Master, standing on top of a garbage mount, screaming his lungs out at him, his body ravished by a brutal force that was ripping him apart. He came back from the dead, but still, he was dying.

"How did you end up here with him the first place?" Martha continued, failing to notice the chance of expression on the Doctor's face.

A second memory came back to him. He was lying on the dirty floor of an abandoned warehouse, his body convulsing in pain while the Master studied him thoughtfully. He crouched down beside him, his expression filled with melancholy and sadness. The Doctor looked at his tormentor, and actually felt sorry for him, for he knew he was so very confused and scared. And after the Master had vented all of his madness and anger at him, he had asked, no _begged_ him to listen. Listen to the drums, and to feel what he felt, every waking moment of his life. The Master brought his head close to his. The moment their minds collided, the Doctor listened, and finally knew how it was to surrender to insanity, and to carry the burden of such loneliness and bitterness inside one's soul. It broke the Doctor's hearts.

"Doctor? Doctor! Are you actually listening to a word I'm saying?" Martha complained, waving her hand in front of him. The Doctor blinked his eyes and gazed back at her wildly.

"He came back!" He said, wiping his hand over his face. "In the real universe. The Master was dead. His wife shot him, that's why I was so surprised to see him here again. But he actually came back from the dead last Christmas. His body was ravished by dark forces, flashing in and out of Skeletor mode beyond his control, and it turned him in some sort of mad cannibalistic maniac, but still, in general, he would definitely qualify as living."

"And that's a good thing then?" Martha opted, visibly confused.

"Not exactly." The Doctor muttered. "Because….There was this prophecy. Someone told me I was going to die, and that death would announce itself by knocking four times. I thought it was the Master who would be responsible. Only he wasn't…or was he?…Oh something happened! Something that I just can't remember…Actually, there's quite a lot I can't remember. It's like there are these massive holes inside my memory that need to be filled up with something or someone for my recollections to start making any sense again. But I just can't figure it out." He looked at Martha for help. "What do you think?"

"I think I wish I had never asked you anything about that Master bloke in the first place." Martha panted, getting seriously out of breath by now. They were reaching the end of the corridor where it emerged into a huge silo-like structure. Her mouth dropped open in amazement as she stared around and took in the size of the underground chamber. "This place must be even bigger than the whole palace complex combined." She gasped as they were slowing down their pace. In the middle of the chamber, the steel cylinder joined a network of tubes that arrived from 17 other corridors. They all vanished into a massive hole in the middle of the room. The Doctor went over to the barrister and stared down. He tried to catch a glimpse of the level below, but found the pit to be almost bottomless. He picked up a pebble and threw it in. He didn't hear it hit the bottom for over a minute.

"That's one hell of a long way down." Martha remarked.

"Yep, and there's no pool down there either." The Doctor said. "That's rather disappointing. I like a large pool. Have one myself in the library. Still, we've got this funny looking thing here, sticking out in the middle." He leaned so far over the banister that it actually scared Martha and knocked on the metal surface a couple of times. "Solid steel walls, going all the way up." He remarked.

"Going up where?"

I would guess into the Beacon of Pharos. I've seen something like this before. It kinda resembles the Pharos Receptor on the planet of the Nomads. But I'll take other suggestions if you come up with anything better." He craned his neck and stared at the point where the huge center tube vanished into the cave's ceiling. "Strange though." He mumbled, while putting his hands inside his pockets.

"What's strange?"

"Well, strange that I didn't burn myself when I touched the core unit really." The Doctor said, walking around the cylinder and studying it closely. "Remember how hot it was down that corridor? That's because of the huge amount of energy that was being conducted through that tube, and this centerpiece has 18 of them connected to it. There should be a massive energy surge going through this thing, producing enough heat to carbonize an egg." He put his hand flat on the metal surface. "Instead, it's even slightly cooler than a fridge." He muttered, puzzled.

When the Doctor and Martha had almost made half a turn around the large cylinder, they came across an insert porthole that looked a bit similar like those found on a submarine. Two bright searchlights hanging from nearby posts were aimed at it. The Doctor looked through the round windowpane, and saw nothing but pit black darkness.

"No." He mumbled, his face turning pale. "Oh no."

"What? What is it?" Martha came forward and took a look inside. "What's so bad about it?" She responded. "I can't see anything in there."

"Oh there's something in there alright." The Doctor swallowed hard and stared back at her with a mixture of awe and horror in his eyes. "Martha, with those strong lights fixed on this, wouldn't you at least expect to see something?"

"Now you mention it. Yeah. At least you should be able to see the inside of the cylinder, even if it is empty." She gazed back him, and realized that she had not yet seen him so worried before. "Only…it's not really empty…is it?" She asked him while a nasty feeling crept up on her.

"No. It's not." The Doctor took out his sonic and whirred it over the porthole. The beam of blue light revealed what was hidden. Martha saw the inside of the cylinder, which was cavernous and mostly empty, but right in the middle, suspended in the air, floating static and perfectly still, was a single piece of rock the size of an apple. It had the darkest color of black Martha had ever seen, and it seemed to absorb all the blue light around it, wrapping it inside a halo of darkness.

"There is a black piece of rock, floating inside like there's no gravity or anything." Martha mumbled, astonished by their finding.

"It's not just a rock. It's a neutron star, the compressed core that remains after an average sized star burns up and dies."

"Are you serious? There is a dead star kept inside this thing?" Martha replied. "But that can't be. I don't remember much from my physics lessons, but I do remember that my old teacher mister Gibbons told me that neutron stars are like a million times heavier than our sun. If that's one, we and everything in this solar system should have been sucked inside and compressed into atoms by now, that's how much gravity that thing should have."

"Someone has been paying attention." The Doctor mumbled, impressed. "But mister Gibbon has never heard of the Timelords. This spider-web monstrosity was built to counteract it's gravity, hence the massive amount of energy needed to keep it in balance. That's why we were sweating ourselves silly back in the corridor, and why the rest of the center cylinder itself remains cool, all the energy has been used up to keep that thing stable, and it happens so efficiently that even the thermal energy is not wasted."

"Is this it then? Is this the Spear of Vela Pulsa?" Martha asked.

The Doctor just looked back at her, his expression gloom.

"What? It can't be that dangerous. I mean I know it's unstable and all but…how on Earth can a dead star be used as a weapon?"

"Oh you obviously have never seen Star Wars." The Doctor replied. "Actually, that wasn't a real dead star, just a ball of rusty metal shaped like a planet in outer space with a giant laser gun hidden inside. Look, it's not the neutron star that we should be worried about. I mean sure, if this thing destabilizes, it would cause a major catastrophe and the whole of Agora I will be blown to bits, but it's hardly the kind of stuff that would worry the Daleks. They have seen weapons like this before, and let's face it, if you have your territories stretched out over thousands of galaxies, what does the loss of a couple of Daleks in a remote border area mean to the Dalek Emperor? Absolutely nada-nothing. Now, if we're speaking about something that could destroy the entire universe, that would definitely make them quiver in their armor panels. The real poison in this doomsday weapon is not the fact that it is an unstable neutron star, but that it _isn't _a real neutron star at all."

Martha shook her head fervently. "Oh I really am not getting this."

"That dead star. It's not made out of rock, or even matter. It's composed of antimatter."

"Antimatter?"

The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair impatiently, struggling to find a way to explain this to her.

"Okay, remember what I told you about alternative universes? There are billions of universes, billions of realities, in which you and I exist but that are not exactly the same as ours. They differ in wide ranges, from tiny little details such as what you had for breakfast this morning to major differences…"

"Like how in this reality, my entire family is murdered by Daleks, and in yours, they are still alive?" Martha said with bitterness in her voice.

The Doctor stared at her. "Yes. Yes, it's like that. Now imagine an universe so extremely different from ours that it's actually the complete opposite of this reality."

"What? A world without Daleks and Timelords?"

"You have to think more radically than that. Imagine a world in which the planets and the stars still exist, we still exist, but we are the negative version of ourselves…Oh, I know! It's like when you take a picture with an old-fashioned film camera, after you develop the film rolls, you'll have your full color photo shots, but you also have the negatives with the strange reversed dark colors."

"Okay, I get that, but why is it so dangerous? Except perhaps that it doesn't really belong here, I guess."

"This chamber in which it is kept is not only zero-gravity, but also vacuum sealed, and that's because if only one tiny little molecule of antimatter, even if it was something as simple as an antihydrogen molecule, would come in contact with matter, it would destabilize so quickly and so violently that it would initiate a chain-reaction that would trigger an explosion with a force equivalent of a thousand atomic bombs detonated at once. With that amount of antimatter floating in there, you can only imagine the worst."

"You said the Daleks wouldn't be afraid if it wasn't that their own existence was stake." Martha muttered, her face paling in shock.

"When this thing comes in contact with anything, anything at all from this world, even if it was only a tiny little oxygen molecule, it would explode and cause the destruction of our entire universe."

Martha swallowed hard. "We have to do something. The Spear is too dangerous to exist, even if it's controlled by the Timelords." She panicked, feeling her heart bounce wildly in her chest. "What if the Daleks get their hands on it? We must shut it down, and with we…I mean you."

"Me?" The Doctor asked, a bit surprised. "You want me to fiddle with that? One little wobble and it heads for the sides of the cylinder. And have you even seen the controls?" He pointed out the gigantic console that sat like a small mountain on one side of the bedrock. There were at least a hundred buttons, dials and switches on it, and of course, not a single one of them was clearly marked. "It's like trying to unarm a bomb that is wired up to a gazillion cables when you're blind idiot with only one arm and no fingers. It's plain suicide to attempt anything like that."

"So, you can't do it?" Martha asked. She was losing hope.

To her relief, the Doctor returned her a mischievous grin. "Oh, I didn't say that." He dash over to the keyboard and started to hit the keys and meddle with the switches like crazy. "I said it was difficult, and very –_very_ dangerous." Martha stared around in panic when an alarm suddenly went off and several red warning lights on the console started to flash violently. "Like I said, dangerous." The Doctor muttered and hit a large round button with a flat hand, shutting down the warning lights and the alarm. "But it is not impossible." He grinned and stared back at Martha with that sly intelligence in his eyes that she had slowly grown to love, while his fingers kept on typing at least a 100 words a minute. "You know why?" He asked.

Martha shook her head in amazement.

"Because I'm bloody brilliant!" The Doctor smirked, and entered the last in the long line of commandos with one push on the enter key. He had expected the whole system to back fire into the zero gravity chamber, causing the antimatter to become so unstable that it collapsed on its own, but instead, the alarms went on again, and this time, he wasn't able to shut it down.

"It's locked!" The Doctor yelled after trying all of the controls.

"Doctor!" Martha pointed at the eastern corridors. Large groups of Timelord soldiers marched out of the tunnels with their laser guns presented in their hands.

"Right. Too brilliant to recognize a booby-trap, apparently." The Doctor mumbled, backing away from the controls. "Time to go."

He pushed Martha in the direction of one of the western corridors, but before they even reached the entrance, a shot was fired. A red laser beam hit the floor, right in front of the tip of the Doctor's right shoe. Knowing perfectly well that the next shot wasn't going to hit harmless concrete, he immediately stopped dead in his track. Martha, who had kept running, turned and glanced back at him.

"Doctor? What are you doing? They're gonna catch us!"

The Doctor grimly shook his head. A red laser dot shimmered threateningly on the back of his neck.

"I'm afraid that they have finally run out of warning shots." He said calmly, and slowly, he raised his hands up in surrender.

**6.**

"I have to say, you guys are quick. I had that thing like what? Activated for less than 10, 20 seconds tops and you were marching in there already like you lot had been waiting just around the corner." The Doctor said, granting the two officers who had arrested him and were currently dragging him down the glass corridors of the crystal palace, a cheeky grin. "Your crime ratings should be most admirably low."

"The Lord Chancellor appreciates efficiency." One of the soldiers replied without looking at him.

"Of course he does." The Doctor replied, suppressing a groan. "Wouldn't have expected it otherwise."

They boarded a glass elevator tube, the three of them squeezed into the tiny cabin that was barely large enough for two. The Doctor's slender frame became stuck between the two beefcake officers, leaving him barely space to wriggle his toes, let alone trying to escape. The door slid open and the three of them pushed out with all the grace of a quivering block of spam dropping out of a tin can. He could have imagined a more dignified entrance.

They were inside some sort of spacetraffic control room on the top floor of the Pharos Beacon. Large windows panels covered every available wall space, and the room was buzzing with the background noise of the computer consoles and the constant rattling of the engineers, diligently typing away on their keyboards. In the middle of this exceptionally well-controlled activity stood the Lord Chancellor, looking down at him as if his men had just dragged in a little lump of furry death out of a compost hope for their lord and master to inspect.

"Well, hello there, again." The Doctor said. "I see you've been busy."

"So have you." The Master replied. He dismissed the two officers and took one step closer to the Doctor, his chin raised.

"You stink." He remarked dryly, experiencing what he would call nasal napalm.

"We went through the sewage tunnels beneath the palace. Have you been down there? It's disgusting. Someone should really sort out the plumping."

The Master ignored his senses and leaned closer to the Doctor. "Do you want to ruin me? Is that your brilliant plan?" He said, raising his voice so loud that the ground control officers peered up from behind their monitors. He cleared his throat and quickly composed himself. "I told you _not_ to meddle with those terrorists!" He whispered, close to being furious. "Why don't you ever listen?"

"You were oppressing the refugees. You sent out soldiers to frighten and arrest innocent people!"

"Just unbelievable, for the last time. They are _terrorists_!" The Master replied, still keeping his voice low, but quickly losing his patience. "They are a civil menace! A threat to the colony's safety!"

"And what would you call that doomsday device in your cellar, the Spear of Vela Pulsa? Your personal assurance for public well-being?" The Doctor objected.

The Master stared at him with a deep loathing burning in his eyes. "Oh the ever-inquisitive Doctor, nosing around like an ordinary sewage rat to impress his rebel Earth girl. You didn't break anything down there, did you?"

"I found enough antimatter to blow up the entire universe in seconds, Master if this is your best idea of maintaining this dangerous peace, than _please_ think again."

"The Spear is the only thing that stands between us and the bloody Dalek curse. Of course, it's easier for you to judge than to act, isn't it?" The Master said, his anger further fueled by the Doctor's criticism. "Where were you, when the races of the universe needed their savior? Where were you when Gallifrey threatened to fall?"

The Doctor stared silently back at him, unable to respond these moral allegations. "What did you do to Martha?" He finally asked.

"Martha _who_?" The Master replied, his voice carrying a sarcastic tune.

"Martha Jones. The woman they arrested together with me."

"You really are thickheaded, aren't you?" The Master said, rolling his eyes.

"Where is she?" The Doctor pressed on.

"Thrown in jail together with the others. And that's where you're heading if you won't stop making a complete fool of yourself!" He pointed accusingly at him.

"I won't stop till you let her go." The Doctor replied defiantly.

The Master gazed at him with a look of incredulity and defeat on his face. "I thought your return was a blessing, Doctor. I must admit, I was facing a difficult time lately, and I needed help. I was hopeful that you could stand by my side and aid me in my duties, but now…" The rest of his words remained stuck in his throat. There, standing near the elevator shaft, right behind the Doctor, was the little girl in the white dress, her large blue eyes questioning his moral intentions.

The Doctor noticed the sudden chance in the Master's expression. He turned around and saw the little girl staring at both of them. "Oh ello." The Doctor said, a little surprised, but then again, he had been surprised throughout the entire stay in this mad world.

"You…you can see her?" The Master asked, his eyes growing wide.

"Who? She? The little girl? The one who is standing right over there?" The Doctor pointed out without taking his eyes off her. Funny place to be for a human child. He bended forward, hands resting on his knees, and smiled kindly at her. "My name is the Doctor, what's yours?"

"She can't-" The Master muttered, shaking his head violently.

"What? She can't talk?"

"My name is Rachel." She replied with a timid little smile.

"Oh no.." The Master muttered, shutting his eyes and counting back from ten. It was like watching the Doctor shaking hands with his worst nightmares. "Oh no no no no no!"

"Well, nice to meet you Rachel." The Doctor continued, unaware of how much distress her appearance was causing the Master. "What are you doing here?"

"You can hear me? You can hear me speak?"

"Yes of course. Loud and clear. Why else would I be talking to you?"

Rachel turned her gaze on the Master who had moved as far away from her as possible. She raised her hand and pointed at him.

"Well, he can't hear me. I've been trying to talk to him for a very long time now, but every time I say something, he tries not to listen, or runs away."

"Really." The Doctor glanced back at the Master, who was now standing with his back against a nearby console, his face drained and as white as snow. "That's not very polite of him. What were you trying to say?"

"I tried to tell him to stop this." Rachel answered. "We can't be all in the same room at the same time. It drives her crazy."

"What room?" The Doctor asked, caught in confusion. "And who is she?"

"Room number 1 on that white spaceship. I went in there because I didn't know who you are, and Alpha-Omega told me to hide. I didn't know it would cause so much trouble."

"Me and the Master, we were together on a spaceship?" The Doctor raised his brows in astonishment.

"At least I believe it's a spaceship. There were stars and everything when you looked outside the windows."

"Would you just stop _talking_ to her!" The Master yelled, finally losing his last nerves. "She's a ghost, a – a figment of my imagination! She isn't _real_!" He screamed so loud that the entire crew was now staring at their fearless leader in silence. The Doctor turned around and finally noticed how horribly terrified the Master looked.

"It's alright Master." The Doctor told him, in a kind, soothing voice that most of us would reserve for people who were standing on the ledge of very high buildings. "Why are you so afraid of her? She's not an invention of your troubled mind. You're not mad. She's really here." He was about to ask Rachel to repeat what she had told him, but when the Doctor turned around, the little girl had vanished.

**7.**

The Master's response to the Doctor's surprised face was one that bordered on a nervous breakdown. "Ha!" He laughed, pointing at the other Timelord with mad grins and wide eyes. "I knew it! I told you! She is just a ghost, a monster under the bed, that's what she's is!" He tapped nervously on the side of his skull while pained grin spread across his lips. "It's all inside my head, and now, somehow…it also got into yours."

"But….She was there. Just now. I saw her. I heard her." The Doctor muttered. "She can't just have vanished without a trace!"

"Oh Doctor, I might see her because my imagination runs wild, but I've got a whole solar system to run and I've been working myself close to exhaustion, so what's your bloody excuse?" The Master scoffed. He then noticed the awkward silence and the thirty pairs of eyes in the room that were all focused on him.

"What are you all looking at? Go back to work!" He ordered, but everyone ignored him, finding it impossible to look even a moment away from his quickly reddening face. "NOW!" He barked, finally scaring his subordinates back into action.

"She said something about a room." The Doctor muttered, digging through his damaged memory like crazy." She told me that we went onboard of a spaceship to investigate. You and I, we were traveling together…" The words had barely left his lips or it started to conjure up images inside his head, flashbacks of lost recollections that flooded his system and filled up the many holes that were punched inside his memory. It was as if a movie of his past experiences was shown to him on high speed. He saw the gate of immortality, the drums, the link, the white-point star, the return of the Timelords, Rassilon and the Master's revenge that saved his life. The black planet, the crystal lake and the tower of the nightmare child. The Judoons, the lady Shadow Architects and mister Fox, senator Magnus Pompous and his ill-fated daughter, exploding garum pots and a blood-drenched Master, holding a knife in his hands with the lifeless body of Dea Pompous lying at his feet…

The Doctor blinked his eyes fervently, eagerly waiting for the rest of his memories to return, but the film ended there and then, leaving a gap between them dropping Wilf off in Wessex Lane, and him alone, waking up on the silver wasteland planet in a much-altered universe. Although frustrated that he could he could recall what the girl just told him, at least the Doctor now finally remembered enough to see his old opponent and friend in an entirely different light.

"Master, listen." The Doctor said while his hearts hammered inside his chest and harbored a most chaotic mix of excitement, relief, thrill and terror. "I know that you won't believe me, but this place isn't real. It can't be real. I lost part of my memory when I woke up here, but I remember it now. That little girl has helped me to remember. You and I were traveling together. Something happened and this reality is a diversion of our own universe that was created as result of it."

"What are you rambling about?" The Master said dismissively. "By Gallifrey, has she scared you so much that you've lost your mind?"

"Oh but it's true! You're not the Lord Chancellor of the Agora refugee zone, you can't be. There was never a truce, both the Daleks and the Timelords were destroyed at the end of the conflict and the Time war itself was sealed inside a Timelock. And you, you are a renegade Timelord, you never took on the political duties that your father had set out for you. You never had the chance to do so. You fled Gallifrey when you were 16. Can't you remember what you've done?" The Doctor pleaded.

"Of course I can't! What you're telling me is a whole lot of nonsense!" The Master responded furiously. "Nightmare fabrications of a - a madman. A base effort to slander my good name! Me? A shameful, renegade Timelord? That's preposterous!"

Please listen, listen!" The Doctor continued. "Something has changed the course of history, of the entire universe, something that you and I are responsible for, but mostly, it has to do with you. Somehow, you didn't became the man you were supposed to become, and that had affected the outcome of the Timewar!" The eyes of the Doctor suddenly became wide as he worked it out. "The drums!" Oh of course, it must be the drums!" The pulled his hair and marched up and down like an over-caffeinated stockbroker on a nicotine-rush. "You told me that you had only heard them once. Once! But that's not right, that's not enough, no…you were supposed to be haunted by them till you were driven to madness. It was supposed to destroy your sanity and turn you into a bloodless murderer, but that didn't happen, so now –"

The Master punched him so hard in his face that the Doctor reeled and fell down, landing on his back on the floor. Dazed by the blow, he finally fell silent and looked up at the Lord Chancellor. A stream of blood oozed out of his nose. The hand that had struck him hung by the Master's side. It was clenched into a white-knuckled ball of bone and sinew.

"And all this time since you came back, I thought you just had trouble adjusting." The Master said, his voice was deceptively calm, but his hands were trembling with anger. "Even when you were causing problems, I still tried to convince my betters that you wouldn't be a danger to our cause. I told you to stay away from the rebels, but you wouldn't listen…" He crouched down opposite the Doctor while shaking his head.

"But now, I finally realize." He sighed and stared him in the eyes, placing his hand on the Doctor's chest.

"Doctor, you must be mad if you believe this." He told him with real pity in voice.

"No. Oh no. Don't play reversed psychology on me. Please, you don't realize how serious this is!"

"Oh I do." The Maser nodded gloomly, he turned around. "Guards! Restrain him."

The two men who had dragged him up into the control tower now grabbed the Doctor under his arms and hoisted him back on his feet.

"Lock him up in the psychiatric ward. Ask for that human doctor, dr. Fendman, to examine him."

"Hey, I am not the mad one here! What are you arresting me for?" The Doctor struggled feverously when they pulled him away from the Lord Chancellor. "Master! If I can remember who I was than so can you! You_ must_ know in your hearts that this is wrong! Rachel! You saw that little girl! Like us, she doesn't belong here! And you saw her!"

"Gag him." The Master ordered, sucking in his cheeks.

"Oh no, don't do this! Don't do this, you crazy crackpot! Li-" The guards, lacking anything better at hand, grabbed a sheet of paper from a desk and crumbled it up before shoving it in the Doctor's mouth. The Master rolled his eyes before he waved his hand dismissively.

"Take him away, but _don't _hurt him." He stressed, watching them remove the troublesome Timelord with a concerned expression on his face. The guards and the Doctor were only a few steps away from the elevator shaft when a massive explosion shook the tower and sent everyone inside the control room reeling towards the walls.

"What the HELL is going on now?" The Master shouted.

"It's the planet Ankhasmodea, sir." Answered one of the engineers behind the dashboards with slight panic in his voice. "It has arrived 86 minutes before its calculated arrival time. It hit the protection shield!"

"And it's entering the solar system way too fast!" The Master said, observing the readouts on screen, he dashed over to the row of windows on his left hand side. There, pass the thin yellow shell of the fake sun, and behind the multitude of refugee planets that were queuing in their assigned orbit around the center solar colony, a giant blue planet was pushing through the eastern border with an incredible force. The impact with the colony's protection shield caused such friction that the whole surface of the planet lit up, casing the blue globe in a white flame. This dazzling ball of white fire was in a collision course with at least 4 different planets. The Master put his hands flat on the console to steady himself. There was no time to panic. Everything he had worked so hard for was now at stake.

"Put down the shield in section 00121! Reduce Abrhamu, Safara, and Yabu's orbital elliptic circle by 1,326%. Do it now!" He ordered, following the path of the blue giant with anxious eyes as he made his calculations. "And turn the orbit of Xerxes with an angle of 12 degrees" He added, while his men rapidly adjusted the magnetic fields to get the planets out of the new arrival's way.

The Doctor was still standing near the elevator tube with his hands constrained behind his back. He finally managed to spit out his paper gag. "What is happening?" He asked staring at the incoming planet with an incredulous look on his face.

"What is he still doing here?" The Master turned, infuriated by the distraction. "Get him out of here immediately!"

"This isn't making any sense." The Doctor said with his gaze fixed on the window.

"This is what happens when a new planet enters the orbit. There is nothing for you to be concerned about. I have it fully under my control." The Master replied sternly.

"So you get a free escort of Dalek spaceships with every new planet you purchase?" The Doctor asked, pulling his eyebrows up and nodding at the window, meaning that he really should take a better look.

The Master whirled around. Behind him, the large windows facing the eastern border showed a most frightening sight. Through the hole in the protection shield that was opened up for the refugee planet, a massive Armada of Dalek spaceships was invading the solar system. The sinister warships hovered around the blue giant planet like a flock of black flies buzzing around a dead animal.

"Raise back the shields! Raise them back up!" The Master ordered. "Send out special squadron 4 to 9 to Ankhasmodea immediately, that planet needs our protection!" His voice quivered, he couldn't to lose that planet to the Daleks. Right now, the fate of the Timelords, indeed of the entire universe, rested in his hands.

The lower panels of the Dalek warships opened, and a squadron of Dalek spitfires emerged. With blasting engines, they headed down towards the blue planet, ready to enter its atmosphere. Two scouts diverted from the group and launched themselves at the heart of the solar system, blasting in parallel lines right into the artificial star, it was aiming for the crystal tower, causing fright and terror in the control center.

"Everyone! Stay at your posts!" The Master yelled, running over to help and stabbing buttons on the panel. "Rocket missiles, we have them, now let's use them!" He said, looking manic.

The wall panels opened outside of the great tower, and just before the two Dalek kamikaze spaceships were about to crash into the solar, a series of missiles were launched and the suicide ships were shot down, just seconds before they were about to smash into the room. The blast of the explosion made the tower tremble on its very foundations while it immersed them in a bright flash of white light and hurled red-hot fragmented pieces of incinerated Dalek spaceship against the window.

"So, you're _sure_ you have this thing fully under control?" The Doctor tried tentatively, watching the Master crawl from underneath huddle of turned over datafile cabinets after he was flung against them by the blast. "If you want, I could, you know, offer a hand…"

The Master held in his breath and pressed his lips together till they disappeared into a narrow line.

"Get him out of my sight!" He ordered.

_**TBC**_

_**Hi there, I'm happy to tell you that the next chapter will be up this weekend, on the 30th of October, and the final chapter will be up on the 6th of November.  
**_

_**best wishes, H**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Dear readers, thank you for your patience. Here is without further ado:**

**Chapter 5**

1.

The Doctor had a revulsion against needles. He didn't particularly like the idea of someone sticking a hollow metal tube in him, however small and delicate the pointy tip. It was even worse when the orderlies forced him down on the bed, tied his hands on his back, and by the lack of an easy accessible vein or artery, plunged the needle in his backside and emptied the entire content of the syringe right into his muscles. He struggled, breathing into the bed linen, sucking in the smell of bleach and soap. Hot blood, carrying the narcotics, rushed into his head, and soon he felt all of his strength leave him. The men strapped him down, fastened the buckles around his wrists, ankles and chest. When they left, his body was senseless, as if it didn't belong to him but to someone else, and he himself was floating above it, like a bird in the sky looking down on those who lived below and crawled like tiny insects over the land.

His eyelids, heavy and tired, soon closed.

2.

The capital of the Phenicians was located on the equator of Ankhasmodea in the middle of the single large continent of the planet. Surrounded by a desert of golden sand stood the magnificent silver city at the shores of an equally magnificent blue lake. The surface of the lake was like a flawless mirror. The high mineral content in the water made it too gluey and heavy to be rippled by the wind. Grass and scrubs grew at the waterside. They had leaves of purple, orange and deep yellow, and branches with rinds that were black as sealskin. They dipped into the water without breaking the surface.

The Master marched his troops towards the lake, closely followed by a group of hesitant locals. The Phenicians were a most curious race, with an extremely slender, elongated body form, and huge, night owl eyes. They were anxious about the arrival of their new allies, who acted, as hours passed, less like their benevolent saviors, and more like their new masters who were here to inspect their conquered realm. It made them wonder if they hadn't been better off with the Daleks.

"Milord. Forgive me, but what are you exactly looking for?" One of the Phenecian elders finally dared to ask. They had reached the edge of the swamp. From here on, the water went deeper. A couple of step more into the lake, and the bottom would disappear completely from sight. The Phenicians didn't want to venture any further. They knew that the lake was ancient, and hungry creatures with large mouths and razor-sharp teeth stirred in the darkness beneath the deceptively calm surface.

The Master stepped on the remains of a Dalek soldier, a charred piece of armor shield that had split down the middle by the intense heat to which it had been exposed. He kicked it away into a muddy pool without much thought, and gazed back at his host. Calmly, he pointed at a tree that stood in the distance, and grew in the middle of the mirror lake. Unlike the flora in the surrounding area, this tree was bare. The branches had a dull white color, like bleached shells that were washed up on the beach, and it looked brittle and dry, as if it was dying of thirst in the middle of a sea of water. A flock of black and white bird-like creatures nested in the crown. There were so many of them that their wings looked like a canopy of leaves.

"I was looking for that." The Master simply stated. "At least, if it is what I think it is." He waited, studying the Phenician's face any indications. The alien elder hesitated, his pupils narrowing into golden slits as he contemplated what he should tell him. If he would speak the truth, there could be severe consequences if these strange and forceful creatures turned out to be malignant. The Phenecians were a spiritual race. They didn't understand the drive of ambition, or the motives of greed. But they knew that the Tree was sacred and possessed great powers. For the sake of the universe, they cannot let it fall into the wrong hands. However, the Master didn't fight his way through an entire Dalek fleet to end up empty handed. He signaled his soldiers to take aim at the Tree, and noticed, not without satisfaction, that his alien hosts reacted most worriedly to the threat.

"The Tree of Transcendence." He spoke expectantly. "Now would that happen to be…_that_ particular tree, right over there?"

This time, the elder reluctantly responded with a small, uneasy nod.

The Master's lips curled into a smile. He took a deep breath, sucking in his cheeks as he savored the sweet taste of accomplishment. "Satonius." He called, without taking his eyes from his price.

"Yes sir."

"Tell the men to go back to the ship and return with shovels and a large wheelbarrow. I mean, a really HUGE one. And hurry, we have some serious digging to do."

3.

That night, both Timelords slept soundly. One was driven into deep unconsciousness by the chemical cocktail coursing through his blood, the other, drunk on the most-satisfying sensation of achievement and success.

Both of them had dreams.

The Doctor was walking in a garden that was green and lush, with white flowers and sunlight shining through the rustling canopy. The smell of sweet summer filled his senses. At the far back, underneath an old oak tree with a wide crown that spread like an umbrella over the lawn, sat the girl in the white dress. She was holding a tea party, with a plate of cookies and a collection of small cups and saucers spread out over a picnic blanket with a red and white checkerboard pattern. When she saw the Doctor, she beckoned for him to come closer.

"Oh hello. Rachel, wasn't it? You're alone?" The Doctor asked, beaming a friendly smile at her.

Rachel nodded. "Want to join me?"

"I'll be delighted to. Are those almond cookies? Oh I love those." The Doctor sat down cross-legged next to her and watched expectantly how she poured him tea from a cute little teapot.

"I was expecting someone-else, but he rarely shows up. It's better to have a tea party with a guest. It's quite boring otherwise." Rachel said wisely.

"Good cookies." The Doctor mumbled with his mouth stuffed and covered with crumbs. There was something peculiar about the little girl, something that nagged him, but his dream wouldn't allow him to recall the exact details.

"Who are you waiting for?" He asked, more to chat than that he really cared to know.

"Your friend of course." Rachel replied with a little sigh. "He spoils everything. His world is so large and noisy, there is hardly any room left for my world. I've only got my best friend's Johanna's back garden left." She glanced around, her young face wrinkled up with worries. "I used to love to come here when I was smaller. Her mother held tea parties for us under this tree. We sat here for hours."

"She bakes excellent cookies." The Doctor said, stuffing the last one in his mouth.

"She didn't make them. She just bought them at the bakers."

"Well then, she has excellent taste in cookies."

Rachel studied him for a moment, blowing a stand of hair out of her eyes.

"You're strange." She finally told him.

"And you're out of cookies." The Doctor replied, finishing his tea in one swig and holding out the empty cup for her to fill. "Can I have another one please?"

4.

Meanwhile, the Master was in another garden. One that was created on the lifeless soil of a hostile planet, with the plants growing under the protection of the glass roof of a hothouse. Although they had been kept alive by artificial light and technology, and had never been kissed by the nurturing light of a natural sun, the plants had grown huge, with their leaves as large as a grown man's head, and their roots were a snakelike tangle that broke the surface of the earth. He wandered through this jungle aimlessly till he reached the edge and encountered a meadow. The grass was thick, and golden, swaying softly with their heavy heads. The yellow waves rolled up a small hill, on which a tree stood rooted to the ground. The sight of that tree made his hearts jolt with joy. He ran towards it, cutting a straight line through the field. When he reached the top of the hill, he saw his wife sitting in the shadows, her white dress spread out over the grass with her back resting against the treetrunk. When she looked up at him with her green eyes, his hearts quickly filled with the same deep love he had felt for her on the day that they first met.

"Koschei." She whispered. In all these years after leaving the Academy, he had never told anyone-else but her his real name, and no-one-else would ever know. He truly loved her, and trusted her with his life.

"You've made it." She smiled, so incredibly proud of his achievement. She glanced up at the branches that were alive with birds. "You've saved everyone. The Tree. The Tree is the answer."

The flock of green birds that made up the canopy of the Tree rustled their wings, and the feathered leaves on the white branches shivered as if caught by a light breeze.

"The others will be here soon. We can finally leave together." Anne said. He couldn't help himself to touch her. He traced his fingertips over her soft, red lips. A gentle lover's touch.

Out of the field came an aged figure. His features hollowed out by time and relying on his cane for every step, his appearance was still noble and dignified.

"I'm so proud of you." Lord Oakdown took his son in his arms. "My brilliant, golden boy." His father's gray eyes were shining as he looked at him.

"Dad." He whispered, captured like a little stone bird in his embrace and feeling very awkward, his father's seal ring caught his eye. A cold sting grasped his hearts, a memory stirred, and he saw himself taking that same seal ring from his father's fingers while lord Oakdown lay silently on the floor. His eyes, vacant and lifeless, stared at the wood panel ceiling of his beloved library. The horrific picture in his mind's eye didn't make any sense to him. He loved his father. He would never, _never_ hurt him.

Frightened and bewildered, he turned and found Rassilon standing right in front of him. Dressed in a fine robe that was scarlet and gold, his lord and master spread his arms to receive him.

"Lord Master." Rassilon beamed, his face without a trace of the usual discontent. "You've accomplished your task. The Tree will finally provide us the solution to the Dalek curse. You've saved us. You've saved the universe."

"Thank you my lord." He replied, baffled by him complements.

"You will be justly rewarded. From this day on, you'll be known as the savior of Gallifrey. I want you to rule by my side, lord Master. Together we will bring upon a new era of harmony and great prosperity under Timelord rule, a golden time that we will share with every race in the universe. The Timelords will be silent no more. Our voice of peace and justice will be heard by everyone."

"Milord. You're too gracious." The Master replied. Of course he should be extremely pleased, but the exceptional honors that the Lord president bestowed on him did not bring him the expected joy. He didn't understand this. He had worked so hard, and now that the moment had finally come, his hearts remained strangely empty. And then he saw her, standing behind the Lord president. After all of Alpha-Omega's efforts to conceal the truth, he shouldn't remember the Timelady counsel, but he did.

"What are you doing here?" He asked his guardian angel.

"I came back to warn you. I'm here to protect you from yourself."

"I don't need any protection." He replied, shaking his head ferociously. This was the same merciful woman who had saved him from the destruction of Gallifrey by sealing him within the Ark, and who had once shed tears for his suffering when he didn't deserve the compassion of anyone. Still he couldn't help himself from treating her with hostility and resentment. He wanted to forget about her again as quickly as possible, for if she was truly real, then what should he make of that most frightful recollection of his father's fate?

"You are a phantom." He told her, pointing at her with an unsteady hand. "You've never existed. I wasn't in that…prison." He trembled as he remembered the searing pain. That foul scent of his own burning flesh when he was stuck inside that cage, a prison that his revered lord Rassilon had constructed for him as a cruel mean to vengeful torture. "There was no prison. No tower. No Ark! I am the Lord Chancellor of the Agora colony. In my previous regenerations, I fought the Daleks as a respected commander of the Timelord fleet. I remember my past clearly, and you…you weren't part of it."

"My poor confused boy." She said kindly. "It's hard to face the truth. Especially when it is so much more painful than the lie. But even from the most wonderful, most lively dreams, one has to wake up someday."

"This isn't a dream. It's my life." His voice broke down. "Everything that I've worked so hard to build up. It's what I am."

He looked back at Anne who still rested under the tree, her face radiant like the most precious star. She was his world. A world that he had created and come to love.

His guardian angel approached him, her eyes shining softly with pity.

"I understand. When you think that you're in an everlasting summer, but then see it fading before your eyes, you would want to grab on to a piece of it, something precious that you believe, would last. But see Timelord, be brave and cruel to yourself. Open your eyes and really see. Because even though you might think you're holding on to a diamond, it's but ashes in your hand."

When he unfolded his fists, a stream of gray ash slipped away between his fingers. He turned and saw his beloved wife, crumbling down like a pillar of sand. Horrified, he ran over to her and called her name, but she disappeared in a cloud that was quickly swept away by the wind.

"Oh wicked woman! What have you done!" He yelled back. His guardian remained perfectly still and calm, watching him with honest eyes.

"I've done nothing. I just helped you to look beyond the lie."

The green birds on the tree shivered and shed their feathers, revealing black, fishlike scales underneath. Their beaks turned into hooked noses, their little heads became more humanlike till they resembled withered old crones. The moment they took to the sky they turned into a screeching flock of furies that circled the now barren tree like hungry vultures that had been lured by the scent of decay. The tree itself had turned from bone-white into real bone, a cathedral of death under which he now tried to shelter against the avenging flock. He stumbled over the roots that stuck out of the earth, and fell down in the grass that was no longer golden, but had turned into brittle stalks that had long since withered and died of disease. There, on the black earth, lay his father. His eyes were still open, staring at the barren treetop with an eerie stillness.

He crawled over to him, his breath caught when he saw his face. His father tried to speak, but the strength had left his body and his voice was but a whisper.

And in that one horrible moment, he finally remembered.

"Where is your Tardis, father?" He had asked, right after he shot him. He had wanted it desperately. He needed it to escape from Gallifrey, because for him, there was no redemption. No second chance. The blood of too many had tainted his hands.

And his father, struggling for his last breath, who realized that his son wouldn't let him regenerate and knew that he was staring his would-be murderer in his face, only said one thing to him, because the love for his child was stronger than the fear of death.

"_I forgive you."_

"I murdered him." The Master said, his voice failing him. He struggled back up. In his muddy hand he held his father's seal ring.

"The Doctor was right. This is a strange world you've created, one that could have been, but never was." She spoke in a sad voice.

"I fled Gallifrey when I was 16. A disgrace. A murderer." He grimace, and fought back his tears. "Oh the things – the things that I've done..." He whispered, covering his face.

"Now you remember this you can reverse everything. Call on the blue host who has created this imaginary world on your command, and tell her to stop."

After a long, burdened silence, the Master shook his head.

She gazed at him, her hearts filled with compassion, but was unable to offer him more comfort.

"Now why would I do that?" The Master replied as hot tears finally spilled down his cheeks. "Why would I want to return to a world in which I'm some sort of mindless, moral-less monster? Where the best thing I had going for me was that I didn't actually have managed to kill myself permanently in one of my stupid plans? Now tell me?" He asked resentfully.

"This isn't real. You know that now."

"Oh you sound just like him." He wiped the hateful tears from his face. All around him, his world was dying. Darkness was swiftly vanquishing the light. Still, he was clinging on to it like man who was about to fall into a bottomless pit.

"But why do I have to listen to you? I'm not even sure that I'm that grateful for what you've done to me. No. I want to stay here. I want to live in this world, where my father passed away peacefully as an old man in his own bed with his beloved son by side. Here, where I'm needed and respected. Where I'm loved and can actually love someone in return. You hear me, my self-appointed guardian angel? I don't want to go back!"

The lights went out as if a candle was blown out in one breath, casting all in darkness. In that darkness, the Master screamed out his sorrow.

5.

"Did you hear something?" The Doctor asked. He thought he heard a cry, primal and heartfelt, coming somewhere from behind the protective green walls of the garden.

"Nope." Rachel said, still gazing at the strange tall man with large, questioning eyes. "And there is no more tea. You've finished everything, even the sugarlumps."

"Well I had to, you didn't have any real sweets." The Doctor said as he kept sucking on the last one. "There should be sweets on a proper tea party, remember that for the next time."

Rachel bowed her little head and started cleaning up in silence, piling the cups and little saucers in her rickety basket.

"Hey, it was just a silly little joke. It was great. I loved your tea party. Next time you invite me, I'll certainly come and bring you some hot scones and marmalade."

"I don't think there's ever gonna be another tea party." Rachel muttered, keeping her eyes down.

"Why not?"

"She told me that she couldn't manage, keeping up both worlds. She said it drains too much of her energy. I don't think she's going to keep mine for long."

"What do you mean? Who is she?"

Rachel sighed deeply. Even now that one of them could finally hear her, he wasn't really paying attention. "Alpha-Omega of course. Who else? She opened the door to the first room for you guys, but I was already in it. And your friend, he did something. He changed it. I saw it happen. I was suddenly inside that dark scary room with him although I really didn't want to be there and had wished very hard to return to the garden, but I couldn't leave. He was angry, and sad and he broke the mirror. It mixed everything up. All the rooms are the same now, and I can't get out so long as he doesn't order her to stop." She gazed at the Doctor. Her eyes quickly welled up with tears.

"I just want to go home. I haven't seen my mom and dad for such a long time now. Sometimes I can't even remember how they look like anymore." She said in a frail voice.

The Doctor wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. Don't cry. I'll help you." He whispered. "Tell me where I can find your parents, and I'll bring you back with the Tardis. I swear."

Rachel swallowed her tears. "I…I think she might not let me leave."

"Oh she can't stop you. Not now I'm here." The Doctor reassured her.

You don't get it. There is something inside that third room, the one she wouldn't let me go into. It keeps me here."

"The third room…" A light bulb switched on inside the Doctor's head. He was standing in the white cavernous cabin facing the three doors. The Master was by his side while Alpha-Omega, in her polite but persistent voice told them that;

_"Door number three is locked. You may not choose door number three."_

_"Well, can't I unlock it?"_

_"No. Door number three is locked and will remain so. You may not choose door number three."_

"What's…behind door number three?" The Doctor muttered.

A shadow fell over the garden. It blocked out the sun and was followed by a strong wind that stripped the leaves from the branches, turning them bare as if it was the middle of winter.

"What's happening?" The Doctor yelled.

"I think she doesn't want you to remember it."

"But you knew about the third room. You remembered it too."

"She isn't worried about me. She doesn't mind that I know."

"But she does mind that I do." The Doctor muttered, and then a thought hit him. "Oh of course she does. I'm the one who can actually do something about it. Bullying a little girl is easy, but try to keep out a Timelord. Ha! That's a whole different ballgame."

"Doctor!" Rachel screamed. She was starting to disappear. Her small frame was swept into tiny golden particles that were carried away by the wind.

"Rachel! Don't be afraid! I'll remember you! I'll remember everything you've told me, and I'll get you out of here! I will!"

_I have to remember this. _The Doctor told himself, as the last traces of Rachel's world were wiped from his dreams. _The third door, I have to find out what's behind that third door…_

6.

"Oh dear, I hope this works. I'm not a qualified medical doctor or anything, and there were so many bottles in the cabinet, it's easy to get them mixed up…Sir? Sir? Can you hear me sir?"

The Doctor opened a crusted eye and blinked at the tall green man with the mad spiky features.

"Who-wha-what?" He muttered and tried to get up. The world spun like mad and he quickly decided that it was better to lie down again.

"It's me sir. Vinnie, the Vinvocci servant. I served you breakfast?" He added with a trying smile.

"Ah, breakfast…yes yes…the most important meal of the day." The Doctor rambled, his brains were still garbled, the potion that Vinnie had given him needed time to straighten out his neurons, but it was slowly getting the first kinks out of the system. "You know what else is important…a door….I mean…not just any door. Oh no, it's a red door with a number painted on it…what number was it again? Let me think."

"I'm sorry sir. But there isn't much time. I must get you out of here before the orderlies return with doctor Fendman. Although our lord master has passed the order to his men not to harm you, you'll find that most of the medical treatments offered here in the medical ward are unfortunately, quite harmful."

Vinnie removed the loosened leather straps from his arms and legs, and dragged the bedazzled Doctor out of the bed before pushing him into a wheelchair.

"Now, just keep your head down, and act like a normal patient." Vinnie whispered urgently, while peeping his head around the door to check the corridors.

When he thought the coast was clear, he wheeled the Doctor outside and headed down the east wing. When an orderly walked up to them, Vinnie gulped down his fear, straightened his back, and greeted him with a polite little nod. The orderly passed by without giving the drooling young man sitting in the chair much notice.

"You know, I was really worried, but maybe this could work." Vinnie whimpered. The Doctor glanced up at him. His head was clearing up and he finally noticed the familiar green face. "Vinnie? Are you're rescuing me?" He asked, a little perplexed.

"Indeed sir. In fact, you're in the good hands of a secret member of the Rebel Squadron. And I'm taking you directly to miss Jones."

7.

His throat was still carrying that scream when he woke up in bed, bathing in his own sweat. His sweet wife was lying next to him and quickly took his face in her cool soothing hands.

"Calm down my love! Calm down. You're had one of those nightmares again." She caressed his face. He looked at her, his breath rasping, a pair of green cat-eyes gazed back worriedly at him.

"Anne." The Master said hoarsely, and took her in her arms. "Oh Anne. I thought…I thought you were gone. I thought she took you away."

"Who did?" She asked hesitantly.

This was how it worked.

The Master's mind was like a house with many floors and many, many rooms. He only lived in one room at the time, and the most recent chamber that he occupied was packed with the artifacts of current affairs. The rules and regulations that he had invented for the Agora district was archived neatly, stacked side by side in large volumes on packed shelves, while the love he had for Anne was stored away with great care inside a vault. His achievements of his successful career were displayed on the mantelpiece like well-polished awards, and his flawless reputation was proudly presented as a focus point on his desk, while the precious, most loving memory of his late father were framed artworks on the wall. He loved living inside this room.

He didn't like to venture outside.

The rest of the house was in a derelict state. The corridors were damp with mould patches spreading everywhere like a disease over the skin, and behind many of the closed doors, skeletons were buried under the floorboard. Sometimes he was forced to open one of the sealed rooms, because however efficient Alpha-Omega may be, she could never fully control the mind of a Timelord. As the door swung open, and the stench of his sins hit him in his face, he would rather not look while shoving whatever had spilled out into the corridor back into the dark chamber before shutting it away again.

"She is…" He started, but then the loud bang resonated in his head as the more stubborn and frightened version of himself slammed shut the door behind him. "She is…" He paused. The dream was quickly fading and his guardian angel was disappearing from his existence. The locked rooms with the shrieking floorboards and the bloody handprints on the walls did not exist, had never existed. He was back inside his neat and tidy study, dreaming how his life should have been.

"She was no-one." He finally replied, and felt great relief that the truth was once again, forgotten.

8.

Vinnie turned the corner and they left the bright airy spaces of the hospital ward behind them. They took a flight of stairs down into the raw innards of the complex, where lightbulbs were sparsely distributed and tresspassers were greeted by a wall of ancient cobwebs that wrapped itself around the Doctor's face like a dusty blanket of silk.

"Could you just let me out?" The Doctor asked, slightly irritated, and spitting a long thread with bits of insects out of his mouth. It was worse than driving in a convertible on a country road on a sunny summer day. "I can walk you know."

Vinnie shook his head, and kept pushing the wheelchair down the stairs, making the Doctor feel every bone inside his body ache at least once by the time they reached the bottom.

"I can't sir. It would look too suspicious."

"And wheeling a patient around in the basement isn't such a weird sight?"

"Not if we're quick." Vinnie replied and with a good shove, drove the chair right into the doors in front of them. He was afraid that the entrance to the underground passage way might be blocked since the last time he came down, but to his relief, the doors flung wide open while the impact of fragile knee bones with stubborn wooden panels extracted a cry from the Doctor.

"Oh, I'm so terribly sorry sir." Vinnie muttered, and quickly wheeled the Timelord inside before they alarmed anyone.

"I have just about enough of this! Let me out. Let me out right now!" The Doctor shouted. Vinnie stopped dead in his track and the Timelord immediately jumped out of the wheelchair as if he was bitten by insects. "That-" The Doctor pointed out, getting a strange feeling of déjà vu as he said it. "-was the worst rescue, ever!"

"That's a bit harsh. He just did his job. I though he was brilliant."

The Doctor turned around. He was surrounded by five bulky members of the Rebel Squadron, and this time, all of them were armed to the teeth. Martha Jones stood in front, her arms crossed over her chest and smiling.

"Martha! I thought they got you!" He rushed over and gave her a tight hug.

"They had. They also took my friends a day earlier, and they had been very busy digging their way out ever since the Timelord soldiers locked them up in the dungeon. You could say that I was just arrested in time to escape." She explained.

"Oh you clever lot! Still, what's with the guns?"

"We're not going to be taken prisoner so easily the second time around." One of the rebels replied sharply.

"Right." The Doctor said, staring disapprovingly at Martha.

"It's only for protection. We've got them from supplies when nobody was looking. No-one was hurt." Martha told him in their defense.

"Well someone is bound to get hurt with these around. Please, get them out of my face. How did you know where to find me?"

"My lord and Master was worried and ordered me to check on you in the psychiatry ward." Vinnie said. "I went to contact miss Martha right away."

"Vinnie here has been working for us for months now. He's the perfect man to help us find out what's being kept secret at the top." Martha explained.

"And rescuing you was not too hard." Vinnie continued. "There should be hundreds of guards around, but with the whole crazy situation with the Daleks, that weird planet showing up too early, and that giant tree that needed to be moved around, they were all ordered away from their posts. Getting you out unnoticed was just easy." The Vinvocci smiled.

"Hang on. What's the Master doing with a giant tree?" The Doctor asked furrowing his brows.

"It's just a tree, nothing special." Vinnie shrugged. "Perhaps it's a little bigger than average."

"There is no time for this." Martha interrupted. "Doctor, you have to come with me. I have to show you something important."

9.

He couldn't sleep. Not after such a horrible nightmare, so he decided to work. At the top of the Pharos Beacon, he had converting the upper floor into something that very much resembled a giant greenhouse. Even at 3 am in the morning, his engineers were toiling in sweat and oil to turn his ingenious blueprint designs into reality. It was a machine that was connected to the living, breathing Tree, which had been transported and replanted in the middle of the great circular chamber. Its snakelike roots were connected to wires that slithered like silver snakes to the semi circle of consoles, where a continuous string of cryptic messages were sent across time and space back to Gallifrey. Between the consoles, 12 steel platforms were built, arranged around the ancient Tree like a fairy ring of mushrooms. Projected on the large windows facing the south of the colony was the giant face of the Lord President. His eyes, although bloodshot and tired, were still burning with alertness, demanding nothing less than total obedience.

"Lord Master, how long will it take to activate your marvelous machine?" He inquired.

"Not long milord. Another 4-6 hours perhaps." The Master replied. He checked the execution files that he had written for the control program immaculately. There was no place for errors.

"The Tree of Transcendence will become our salvation." Rassilon mused. "The Dalek Menace will no longer endanger our universe. The Timelords will finally win this war with an uncompromised victory. Tomorrow, the Saxon Treaty will cease, we will destroy the Daleks and a new time of peace and prosperity will begin." Rassilon paused, and looked down at him.

"Have you reserved a place for yourself, lord Master?"

"Yes Milord. I have, as you've instructed."

"I granted you a position by my side together with the 10 selected counsel members. You must realize that this is a _great_ honor."

"And I feel honored sir. I truly do."

"Don't forget this, my lord Master. Remember what you soon will gain. Don't be tempted to look back. I cannot use a warrior with doubt in his hearts."

The Master bowed deeply. He knew that Rassilon was a man who could look into another man's soul, and rip the heart right out of him if it pleased him. The trick was to avoid such a horror scenario from ever happening to yourself, even if it meant that you had to conceal your true colors behind rows of grinning teeth.

10.

Vinnie was right. Everywhere the Rebels went they found that the palace was pretty much deserted. Even the dungeons were poorly staffed. The hundreds of prisoners were left under watch of two Timelord soldiers who were not exactly the pick of the crop. It was easy enough for the Doctor to find a way to put his sonic screwdriver to good use. One well-aimed shot at the complicated security system, and the two were locked inside a mid section emergency shaft with the doors sealed for at least till two hours before anyone would find out.

Without being troubled, the Rebels and the Doctor entered the dungeon vaults, a miserable place, with the classic setup of rows and rows of barred cages. "So this is where he keeps his prisoners of war." The Doctor mumbled with disgust.

"Are those…Daleks in there?" Vinnie asked. His spikes twitched nervously. Behind the bars, lurking in the shadows in a tangle of chains, was what remained of the fearsome Dalek army that was captured on the planet of the Nomads. Their weapons have been brutally taken from them, both arm stalks literally cut off, so they could no longer do any harm. Even though the real creatures were sealed inside, and the Doctor knew that he was looking at nothing more than their armored shells, he thought that they looked pitiful. And there were hundreds, if not thousands of them. Rows of cages, all filled with Daleks, all mutilated and left in the underground vaults to rot.

"What are they keeping them alive for?" One of the Rebels, the tall man who liked to yield a gun, asked.

"It was stated clearly in the Treaty of Saxony, no-one of the signing party, may kill captured soldiers of Dalek or Timelord origin. That's why the Master has kept them locked up in here. Only he was sure to make them harmless first." The Doctor explained.

"Don't tell me we're wasting any of our limited resources on these monsters!" The Rebel snorted with a vindictive malice.

"A Dalek feeds on anger. He has not much use for a good bowl of stew or anything that you might consider food. But now that they are defeated…" The Doctor calmed stepped closer. "Look at them…they're starving."

"You're not pitying them, Doctor?" Martha asked, her own voice turning into stone.

He stared at her for a moment. In her eyes he saw a flash of anger that he could not remember ever seeing in the old Martha's eyes. The brutality of this world had chanced her, twisted her soul, and it grieved him.

"Why did you bring me here?" He asked.

"I was here when one of the high ranking Daleks was brought in. He was screaming when the guards cut off his metal limbs and accused the Timelords for tricking them into this Treaty. He claimed that he knew about the real purpose of the Spear of Vela Pulsa, and that the Dalek Emperor was not going to let you guys destroy everything that was Dalek."

"Let _you guys_ destroy everything…" The Doctor noted sourly.

"Sorry, I meant Timelords, present company excluded." Martha replied hastily.

The Doctor strolled along the cages. "Which one said this?" He asked.

Martha led him to him.

The cage was dark. The sole Dalek warrior who was kept inside hid in the shadows, his eyepiece glowing dimly when he noticed that the humans approached. The Doctor crouched in front of the cage, seeing the beastly creature eye to eye.

"Tell me, what is wrong with the Saxon Treaty?"

The clunk of metal as the beaten figure shifted, and the light in the eyepiece lit up.

"WHO DEMANDS TO KNOW?" The creature stated.

"Me." The Doctor stated.

A heartbeat of silence, then; "ARE YOU A TIMELORD?"

"Yes. I am."

"WHY WOULD I INFORM THE ENEMY?"

"Because, my metal nemesis. At the very moment, it looks like we're fighting at the same side."

"YOU TIMELORDS ARE FULL OF TRICKS. NO HONESTY CAN BE EXPECTED FROM SUCH A FOUL, IMPURE RACE."

"Oh come on. We didn't trick you! How could we? Your soldiers stormed into the protected refugee zone and broke the treaty. You can't blame the lord chancellor for locking you up, although his treatment was unusually cruel."

"HIS LORD CHANCELLOR'S CRUELTY IS NOTHING COMPARED TO THE TORTURE YOUR ENTIRE LOWLY RACE WOULD ENDURE IN OUR HANDS IF WE HAD BEEN ABLE TO TAKE OVER AGORA I. WE WOULD NOT HAVE TAKEN ANY PRISONERS OF WAR. THE WEAK FLESH OF THE VANQUISHED WOULD PILE UP IN THE GUTTERS WHILE THEIR BLOOD RAN COLD IN SHALLOW STREAMS. WE WOULD DRAG YOUR LORD CHANCELLOR THROUGH THE STREETS OF HIS PRAISED COLONY BEFORE WE TEAR HIM APART FORM LIMB TO LIMB!"

"But why? I know your race. You don't do anything on your own initiative. Rules are set in stone for you bunch, and if the Dalek Emperor has decided to honor a Timelord treaty, the rest of you are pretty much stuck with it. After all these long years, why breach the truce now? Why do you harbor such a specific hatred against the lord chancellor? What has he done to evoke your wrath?"

"IT IS WHAT HE DESERVES. HE FOOLED US INTO BELIEVING THAT WE CAN CO-EXIST WITH THE TIMELORDS, WHILE ALL THIS TIME, HE WAS DESIGNING THE INSTRUMENT OF OUR DESTRUCTION."

"You mean the Spear of Vela Pulsa? But you knew about the Spear, it's why you were prompted to sign the treaty. Without it, you wouldn't have agreed to stop fighting."

"THE TREATY WAS SIGNED BY THE DALEKS BECAUSE WE DID NOT WANT THE TIMELORDS TO USE THEIR DEADLY WEAPON."

"And we won't! The Spear is a just a means to an end, we weren't really going to use it. Deploying it would mean the end of creation, which means the end of everything Dalek and Timelord alike. No rational man would ever consider such an option. It's suicide."

"NOT IF THE TIMELORDS NO LONGER FEAR DEATH."

"What do you mean? Why would the Timelord stop fearing death?" The Doctor asked anxiously.

"THE TREE OF TRANSCENDENCE THAT GREW ON THE PLANET ANKHASMODEA. WE DALEKS HAVE SEARCHED IT FOR DECADES, ONLY TO WATCH IT FALL IN THE HANDS OF THE GREATEST ENEMIES."

"The Tree of Transcendence." The Doctor's face suddenly turned a shade of unnaturally white. "But that's just a myth. You mean it really exists?"

"What is the Tree of Transcendence?" Martha asked, noticing the chance in his expression. "Is it important?"

"Legend has that a single tree grows on the planet Ankhasmodea." The Doctor explained to her. "A tree that is so ancient that it has grown there since the beginning of time. Its roots are bound to the material world, while it's branches transcend into the immaterial universe. It exists between those two and can act like a bridge for anyone who wants to move on into a higher plane of existence."

"AN EXISTENCE THAT HAS NO NEED FOR THE MATTER FROM WHICH WE ARE ALL CREATED."

"The final sanction." The Doctor whispered. "The destruction of creation itself, because it's no longer needed by the higher beings that the Timelords aim to become."

"Oh my god, they are going to activate the Spear." Martha gasped.

"THAT'S WHY THE DALEKS ARE FIGHTING TO THE DEATH TO DESTROY AGORA I. IF WE DON'T STOP THE TIMELORDS, THIS WOULD BE THE END OF EVERYTHING DA-LEK."

"Vinnie!" The Doctor shouted, and jumped up with a crazy-eyed expression on his face. He rushed over to the Vinvocci servant and shook him till his spikes trembled. "Where did the Master took that large tree that you were rambling about?"

11.

The Tree was ready.

The machine was singing.

It was time.

On 11 of the 12 platforms, the holovids representations of the Timelord counsel select and the Lord president himself were standing like solemn statues on their pedestals, impatiently waiting for the transcendence to begin. The Master glanced over the panel of winking lights, levers, buttons and dials and counted his heartbeats. If he failed, the entire Timelord government would be wiped out, but if he succeeded…they would become Gods.

He noticed that his fingers were trembling as it hovered just above the buttons. Anne took his other hand, and wrapped her soft hand around it. He glanced at her, his beautiful wife, standing proudly by his side, and he smiled.

He pulled the lever and the machine was switched on. Blue sparks of violent energy was sucked out of the Tree, traveled down the root system and from the wire extensions into the consoles which sent it all the way back to the home planet of the Timelords. The 11 Timelord elders became engulfed in a bright glorious glow.

"It works!" Rassilon roared, raising his staff in the air. "I can feel the raw power coursing through my body, breaking down the molecules in every cell, freeing my spirit from its suffocating dusty shell."

"Master! Stop this. Stop this immediately!"

He turned, and saw the Doctor rushing in with a small company of armed Rebels. The Timelord soldiers who guarded the Tree immediately took their aim, but so did the members of the Rebel Squadron, and they cleverly found a much better target by aiming directly at the lord chancellor's head.

"No don't. Don't! Nobody is going to shoot anyone, do you hear me!" The Doctor said sternly, while he placed himself in front the line of guns .

"What are you doing here?" The Master hissed.

"Master, you have to stop this madness. You can't let the Timelords transcend!"

"And let the opportunity pass us by to become Gods? Are you serious?"

"Oh could you just for once not act like a complete selfish twat? Please think! Think of the others, the refugees, your wife!"

"I _am_ thinking about them, that's why this operation has to succeed. You know very well that the Truce with the Daleks won't last forever. Sooner or later, the war will continue, and it won't end till everything in this universe is drawn into its destructive path. But if we would become the most powerful beings of creation, creatures that could control the world around us with our minds alone, the Daleks would no longer pose a threat. Think about this, Doctor! We could destroy their entire abdominal race and scatter their ashes over time and space with as little as a blink of an eye."

A feeling of relief washed over the Doctor as he realized what the Master wasn't part of this. "You're not the one who wants to activate the Spear. They haven't told you..."

"What? What didn't they tell me?" The Master furrowed his brows. He turned and fixed his eyes on Rassilon.

The lord president gazed back at the Master, his blue eyes ablaze with a voracious type of insanity. "Initiate the second part of the final sanction." He ordered.

"But...There is no second part."

"Not for you. But I bet someone got the connection with the control of the Spear up and working while you were busy." The Doctor muttered. The ground shook violently, and a loud rumble was heard, coming from many floors below, as if a dangerous beast had been awakened from its slumber.

"Lord chancellor!" One of the engineers shouted from behind the console. "The Spear! It's activating!"

The Master rushed over and stared with wide-eyed shock at the flashing warning signs that lit up all over the screens. "Shut it down manually! Shut it down now!"

"Can't sir. It's locked. Everything is locked." The man reported. "We've lost control over the entire system."

The Master turned back to Rassilon with a look of total bewilderment. "My lord president!"

"I told you, lord Master, don't look back to what is already passed its time." Rassilon answered coldly.

"But… …what about Agora. The colony was my creation I'm responsible for its people. The refugees…what's going to happen to all of them?"

"Like our enemies, they will perish."

The Master kept shaking his head in incredulity, and slowly backed away.

"Don't you get it?" The Doctor interrupted. "Rassilon is playing you like a pawn! It was never his intention to use the Tree of Transcendence to save anyone but himself. In the mind of this powersick tyrant, there is no place for others."

"To achieve victory in war, one has to be prepared to make sacrifices." The Lord President justified. "The pestilence that is the Dalek race will threaten us no more."

"But you're sacrificing our entire universe! We have shed blood and tears fighting this war! Good men have died to defend our cause!" The Master spat.

"It was their duty to pay the ultimate sacrifice for Gallifrey. Like it was yours to bring us to glory. Lord Master, now it is time to reap your reward. The moment has come for you to rise with me and ascend to the light." Rassilon gestured to the empty platform that was waiting for him. "Take your place amongst the future Gods. Fulfill your destiny. _Don't_ look back." Rassilon warned.

"Don't listen to him!" The Doctor said. "We can still stop them."

"Oh but you know you cannot." The lord president answered slyly. "You've designed this contraption yourself. You know that once the process has started, it cannot be stopped. That's why I admire your work my lord Master. Your engineering genius ensures that the both the Spear and the Transcendence are absolutely infallible."

"What about Anne?" The Master asked. "Can she come?"

"Your wife is not one of us. Where we go, she cannot follow." Rassilon answered coldheartedly.

"You're telling me to leave her behind to die?"

"I'm offering you the gift of eternity. Either live forever, free of pain, suffering and disease, or die like the miserable worm you prefer to be."

The Master shook his head, but a warm hand wrapped around his. He turned to Anne, who looked at him with teary eyes.

"Love, listen to me." Anne shivered when she held his hand. "Go with them." She begged him. "Don't stay here."

"Master…" The Doctor shook his head slowly, holding in his breath.

"What is your answer, lord Master?" Rassilon asked.

His throat was dry like parchment. He turned and gazed at the last platform that was still bathing in the raw energy that was released from the Tree. His whole life, he had been dreaming to be in possession of such power. To be able to shape time and space to your own liking with a single thought. To be finally liberated from the fear of death, of grief, and regrets, and of a past that he wished had never been, but what she, his guardian angel, had so cruelly reminded him of.

"_I came back to warn you."_ She had told him, opening the doors to the sealed chambers of his mind, letting the other world, the tainted memory of the other him, enter like a nightmare after the last beams of sun had been cast over the hills at twilight.

"_It's hard to face the truth. Especially when it is so much more painful than the lie. But even from the most wonderful, most lively dreams, one has to wake up someday."_

But even if his entire life, this world that had built was just a dream, he wouldn't allow it to be destroyed.

"My lord president." He said, his voice hoarse but forced to remain polite. You offer is most generous, but I am afraid I cannot accept it."

"You are a fool, lord Master." Rassilon laughed. He raised his sheeted hand, and with one well-aimed strike with his gauntlet he destroyed the platform, setting it ablaze with a bolt of lightening.

"Perish with the others as you wish, but we will ascend to become Gods!" He roared.

"I am afraid I cannot let that happen either." The Master replied sharply.

"You are even a bigger fool if you believe you can go up against me." Rassilon reacted, still basking in confidence.

"You're right lord president. The transfer cannot be stopped. However…" The Master moved slowly to the back.

"It can still be reversed." The Doctor murmured, realizing what his old friend had in mind.

The Master pulled down a seemingly random group of levels.

The effect on the power-hungry Timelords was almost instant as the mystical energy was immediately retrieved by the ancient Tree. Martha watched with growing horror how the faces of the men of the Timelord counsel aged in seconds. Spines grew crooked, cheeks caved in, and eyes withdrew into their sockets while noses shriveled away, leaving only grinning skulls covered by brittle layer of skins. And all the while, these most unfortunate, greedy men were screaming in agony.

"You shall die with me, Master!" Rassilon raged while the last of his flesh peeled off from his skull. "The Spear will rip this universe apart! Everything shall perish!"

_Not if I can stop it._ The Master thought. _There must be a way to stop it._ The Doctor had always found a way to thwart him. If he could rely on only one thing that had not changed in this reality, it should be the simple fact that he could count on that fateful flaw in his design that would bring down his own destructive plans.

As the lord president's bones and skin turned brittle and mummy-like the ancient Tree began to miraculously transform. For where there had been bare knots of branches covered in layers of bird guano, new green sprouts began to grow. They reached for the sky where the buds burst open into blossoms of vibrant green leaves.

It didn't take long, or the last bits and pieces of the late lord president were sucked dry and crumbled into a pile of shapeless dust, joining in form the 10 other high counsel members.

And that, in a nutshell, was the end of the whole horrible lot.

"Well that's about the first time the sour bastard had done anything that benefited anyone but himself…or in this case…anything." The Master remarked dryly.

The Pharos tower shook dangerously, rattling the large windows with a brutal force.

"I don't want to be rude sir." Vinnie noted with alarm. "But there is still the matter of the Spear that really needs your attention right now!"

"We have to shut it down!" The Doctor rushed over to the consoles while taking out his sonic and whirring it over the screens. The program flashed for a short moment, but then continued to perform its deadly task.

"No use. The controls are dead." The Master pulling Anne to the transportation shafts. "It has to be shut it down manually. Someone has to go down into the underground silo and try to inactivate it."

"We know the way back." Martha opted, shining with bravery. "We can help."

"Nobody knows the Spear better than me. I designed the bloody thing. I will be the one who shuts it down. Satonius!"

The general of his personal guards stepped forward. "Yes sir?"

"Prepare our entire fleet for evacuation. Order the men to bring the refugees to safety. Use every spacecraft that we have. And you, rebel girl." He beckoned to Martha. "Make yourself useful for once, take your friends down into the streets and help my men to get everybody on board. We have to leave before the core destabilizes."

Martha nodded firmly and left with the Rebel Squadron, following by the general and his troops.

"But that's just madness. Even if we did get away from Agora in time, if the Spear is launched, nowhere will be save." Anna said, staring back at her husband with wide frightened eyes. An awful feeling tightened her stomach. "My love, please tell me. Don't lie. Tell me you can shut it down. Tell me you will leave with us."

"I can't." The Master said in a soft voice, and with pain in his hearts he tore his gaze from her and turned to the Doctor. "I want you to keep her safe." He told him. "Here, take this." He removed his father's seal ring from his finger and tossed it over to the Doctor.

"What's this?"

"The key to my Tardis." The Master replied. "It's hidden inside the Agora library. Take her there. If I fail, and this universe is destined for destruction, use the Tardis to escape through the cracks of the timevortex to another dimension."

"I won't take this. I know that look on your face. You're going to sacrifice yourself in order to stop the Spear." The Doctor said sternly.

"Someone has to stay behind to destroy it."

"Then I'll stay. We both stay. We'll shut it down together!"

"This cursed thing is my creation Doctor! So I should be the one who does this, for everyone's sake."

"Don't do this." The Doctor urged. "You don't have to sacrifice yourself. None of us does."

"There is no other way."

"No one has to die. Just stop panicking and start thinking. I told you that this world never should have existed. You and I, we came from another world, another reality. That little girl Rachel who haunted you day and night, she came to me in my dream. You never listen to what she has to tell you. Let her come to you. You've got a bloody brilliant mind in that thick skull of yours, for once in your life, use it, and you should be able to figure out what she means and undo all this before the Spear is launched."

"No, I won't." The Master replied, defeated.

The Doctor gazed back at him. "You knew, didn't you?" He murmured softly. "I thought I was just wasting my breath, but you're way too clever to fall for this. You knew it, all the time, you knew that this wasn't real."

"Don't say it isn't real!" The Master burst out in anger. "My love for my wife is real. Anne is real! And so are the millions of people out there for whom I am responsible and whose death will be on my conscience if I don't stop the Spear!"

"Master." The Doctor tried, holding up his hands. "Calm down. This was never supposed to happen. We were stranded on an abandoned spaceship. Rachel was there. This computer host in blue humanoid form offered us the choice of three doors -"

"Stop it!" The Master spat back at him.

"Rachel was haunting you for a reason! You have to reverse this and undo this dangerous alternative universe that you've created before it's too late!"

"And then what? If this, all of this is turned back. What then? Will I go back to the man I once was? The monster of my nightmares? A coward and a murderer?"

"I know you're afraid. But you're not that man. Not anymore. Trust me. You've changed."

"But I'll still be able to remember." The Master replied, swallowing hard. "My father, Doctor, I've seen what I've done to him. And I cannot imagine that I would ever be able to sleep again, knowing that it was me who had murdered him. I don't want to carry that burden for the rest of my life."

The Doctor was about to say something when the tower shook again, this time so violently that cracks started to appear on the walls and cobweb fractures bloomed on the windows while the frames creaked and splintered.

"There no time." The Master told the Doctor. "Please. Take Anne to the Tardis."

Anne grabbed his hand. "No." She cried. "I don't want to leave you."

"Anne, listen to me. I love you, more than anything else in this world. More than I could ever imagine myself to be capable of such love. If we survive this, I promise you, I'll find you." He caressed her cheeks, wiping the tears from her face. "I'll find you, but you've to keep yourself safe for now. Go with the Doctor." Gently, he pushed her away. "Go!" As Anne parted with him, she glanced back over her shoulder, and her heart was breaking with sorrow.

"Promise to keep her safe."

The Doctor's eyes lingered on his friend for a moment. "Cross my hearts." He finally promised, then he turned away. "Anne, Vinnie, follow me!"

He took the others to the transportation shaft and left with them for to the library, leaving the Master on his own. He was about to head down to the Spear when a massive explosion lit up the sky outside the windows. In their desperation, the Dalek fleet had resumed to attack the colony's protection shield. Their squadrons were flying into the heavily armed barriers, and crashed and burned in their suicidal attempts, while the explosions that they caused rippled the energy field like a stormy wind would swell the restless waves at sea. For now, the shield prevailed and kept them out of the colony, but there was no doubt that the Daleks knew about the Spear, and had launched their entire fleet in a last attempt to destroy Agora I to undo the Timelord's deadly weapon. There was not much time left. With the hardened mind of a man who was about to plunge the dagger into his own heart, he hit the button to transport himself down into the underground chambers.

**_TBC_**

**_The final chapter will be up next week, the 6th of November. Meanwhile, please comment and review._**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

1.

Chaos had broken out in the streets below the tower. People were running around in fear while large crowds had gathered on the launching platforms where the spaceships of the Timelord defence force were waiting for them to board. Martha was just helping an elderly couple to get on board when the sky suddenly lit up with a blue blaze of light. Dalek spacecrafts smashed into the protection shield, right above their heads. The refugees panicked, and the stronger members of the colonies started to push their way through to get to the front of the line. Martha gazed up, and saw how one after another, the Dalek space-cruisers flew into the same spot in the protection shield till it was so weakened that one of them finally broke through in a flaming, glowing ball of fire.

"They've breached the shield! Situation reaches critical, evacuate immediately! Get everyone inside the ships now!" The Timelord commander ordered. Before she could get out of the way, Martha was pushed on board with the frantic flow, just when she saw the Doctor rush by with Anne and Vinnie. She called out to him but the doors of the spaceship closed before he could notice her.

2.

He came down to the underground chambers and found that the secret silo was bustling with nervous activity. Final attempts were made by the engineers to shut down the system, but whatever they tried, it had failed so far.

The head engineer grabbed the Master by his arm when he rushed by. "It's no use! The manual controls don't work! The Spear is going to launch in less than four minutes! What do we do sir?"

"Move out of my way." The Master snapped and pushed his subordinate aside to gain access to the keyboard. He immediately started to enter a string of commands that would backfire the energy into the zero-gravity chamber. It was something that the Doctor had attempted earlier, but instead of causing the antimatter to collapse on its own in a relatively harmless way, this operation would, now that the launch had started, trigger an explosion that would wipe out the entire colony, taking the cursed Spear with it.

_Four minutes._ The Master thought._ That's only 240 seconds to get Anne out of here. Doctor, You better not fail me my old friend._

For a moment, he was convinced that his mad suicidal plan would succeed, but then the fateful message; OPERATION CANNOT BE TERMINATED appeared on screen. Feverishly, he checked the system, and discovered that the cables in the conductor that guided the energy to the missile had become overheated and had melted into one, leaving the entire system stuck in a one-way circuit. He yelled out in frustration and was about to smash his fist through the screen when a blast hit the dashboard. The whole thing blew up, flinging shards and mangled plastic into his face. Shielding his eyes with his arm and turning around, he was just in time to dive behind a pillar when the room was struck by a second assault. From out of the darkness of the tunnels the Daleks entered. Blue sparks slivered over their armor plates as they materialized in the underground silo in their hundreds. Their distorted tin-can voices shouted in terrifying unison.

"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

3.

"This way." Vinnie told the Doctor when they finally reached the Agora library. "Our lord's Tardis is hidden right in the center of the ground floor." The Vinvocci servant guided them through the labyrinth of silver data shelves, followed closely by the Doctor and Anne. They reached the circular open space in the middle.

"There is nothing here." The Doctor said.

"It's hidden. Placed out of our time stream. You have to use my lord's seal ring." Vinnie explained hurriedly.

"How do I do that?"

"Turn the seal upside down." Anne told him.

The Doctor tried to twist the seal. It gave way and turned anticlockwise. A groaning noise rose up, followed by the materialization of a very familiar blue wooden box.

"But that's a police box!" The Doctor noted.

"I've told him a million times, but he always forgets to shut down the chameleon circuit. It's set on random. You never know how it turns up." Anne replied, unaware of the coincidence.

"It's looks exactly like my own Tardis."

Maybe it really is fate who decides over us." Anne answered in a sad voice.

They were startled by a series of explosions. The great dome of the library cracked like an eggshell and parts of the ceiling came tumbling down in large deadly chunks. They crashed into the rows of data shelves, splintering wood and sending pieces of twisted files flying everywhere.

"Unlock the door!" Vinnie squeaked in panic.

"There is no lock!" The Doctor replied. But then he discovered a seal that matched the one on the Master's ring. He held the ring in front of it and a magnetic pull drew the two together with a loud click. He put his shoulder against the door and pushed. The door slammed open and the three of them hurried inside to safety.

4.

The Daleks troops advanced relentlessly, opening fire, aimed only to kill. The remaining Timelord soldiers who had stayed by their lord chancellor's side immediately returning fire, but they were heavily outnumbered. One by one they fell, and after the last of the armed men went down, the Daleks opened fire on the unarmed engineers and massacred them in front of the horrified Master. The Master had expected to die too, but the Dalek's deadly rays were not intended for him. After the smoke of the gunfire had cleared, leaving the scent of spilled blood heavy in the air, he was the only one left standing. Surrounded by Daleks, he backed away while his enemies closed in, making the circle smaller and smaller, till he could see his own frightened reflection in their armors.

"What do you want from me?" He yelled at them. There was a silence. Then the deadly wall of steel parted, and a red Dalek approached him. His eyepiece scanned over his features to make sure that they had taken the right prisoner.

"YOU ARE THE LORD CHANCELLOR OF AGORA I." The Red Dalek proclaimed.

" Yes I am." The Master confessed bravely.

"YOU ARE THE CREATOR OF THE SPEAR."

"That's correct."

"THEN YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN DESTROY IT."

"Yes." The Master breathed in relief. "Yes indeed."

"LET HIM LIVE. FOR NOW." The red Dalek ordered.

The line of Daleks parted, letting him through. The Master rushed over to the consoles and immediately started working on the program. The red Dalek came to him.

"DO YOU HAVE A PLAN?"

"Oh I won't call it a plan, it's not even half a plan." The Master replied. "Let's hope the other half comes up while I keep working on the first part." He added while his fingers kept flying over the keyboard, reprogramming the course of the Spear.

"I won't lie to you. I can't shut it down, and I can't even blow it up without taking the rest of creation with it. So I have to disarm it. There is only one possible solution left."

The 3D navigation screen lit up in the middle of the room and showed the newly planned course of the Spear. The destination of the launch was now appointed to be Vela Pulsa, the neutron star, right in the eye of the Hydra constellation.

"WHAT IS YOUR PLAN, TIMELORD?" The red Dalek inquired impatiently.

"Call me a lunatic, but I'm going to try to shoot a star out of the sky." The Master said with a resolute look on his face.

5.

The Tardis console room was an mirror image of the Doctor's own Tardis, and it didn't took him long to master the controls and start up the engines. They dematerialized just in time before the entire roof of the majestic dome came soaring down and buried the library in tons of debris. Out of direct harm's way, the Tardis still had to fight the gravitational pull of the Agora colony's hundreds of planets and the Doctor was manning the controls and holding on to the steering for dear life. The Tardis was violently leaning over to the left and right when Anne suddenly let go of the railing and made her way across the console room.

"Milady? What are you doing? Come back!" Vinnie shouted. "I'm sure it's not safe to move around yet."

Anne could no longer bear it. Her thoughts were with her husband left behind on the doomed colony. The idea that they were abandoning him was quickly driving her to desperation. She rushed over to the doors and pushed them wide open.

They were in space. In the distance, the Master's beloved colony was burning. Fleets of Timelord spacecrafts loaded with refugees rushed by, abandoning the safety zone, while the entire Dalek Armada descended upon Agora, spreading death and destruction in their wake. She screamed when a large Dalek spaceship rocketed through the artificial sun and exploded.

"Anne, stay away from the doors!" The Doctor yelled. He ran over to her and grabbed her by her arm.

"Doctor, look!" Anne pointed to the tower that was still standing. A red laser shot out of the top and went on a straight line out of the colony into the direction of the Hydra constellation.

"What is he doing?" She whispered, realizing that this was her husband's doings.

"He's recalculating the course of the launch. The Spear was never intended to make it far. It was only to be used as a doomsday device." The Doctor stared at the beam and raised his eyebrows high. "But…if he could make it go all the way to reach its exact opposite, the Vela Pulsa neutron star in the head of Hydra constellation, then all the antimatter would collide with matter without generating any surplus of energy. Both stars will be annihilated without so much as leaving a puff of smoke….Oh Anne! Your husband is a bloody genius!" The Doctor shouted, just when the Tardis suddenly jolted to the side. The Doctor and Anne grabbed on to the handles as the doors swung wide open and left them both swinging with their feet in outer space.

Quite understandably, Anne screamed again.

"Hang on." The Doctor said. "Look, it's going to be all right! Just…just don't look down!" He told her while he swung his feet up till he could reach the edge of the Tardis floor. "And for mercy's sake, stop screaming in my ear!"

6.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THE LAUNCH COORDINATES ARE NOT IN LINE WITH THE COORDINATES OF THE TARGET OBJECT."

Which was the Dalek way of telling him that it was a bloody lousy aim. It sounded almost polite considering their murderous reputation. But the Master was not making a mistake. It was impossible to get the antimatter star to the neutron star at the other side of the galaxy without hitting anything else first. The Master had programmed a primary thermonuclear blast just seconds before the launch of the Spear to clear the way, but that blast wouldn't have the power to keep shielding off the dangerous antimatter bullet all the way to Hydra. To make sure that the Vela Pulsa wouldn't hit anything in its course, the Master needed to calculate not a direct, but an indirect route.

He was aiming the deadly Spear at the nearest wormhole.

"STOP! STOP IMMEDIATELY AND EXPLAIN YOUR PLAN! WE CANNOT COMPUTE YOUR ACTIONS INTO A RATIONAL OUTCOME."

"That's why you are just a bunch of boring metal dust-bin calculators, and I, am the Master." He remarked before he stabbed the final key.

What happened next was nothing less than a very artful game of intergalactic golf.

7.

The first blast erupted from the underground silo and burned a path through the jam-packed cluster of refugee planets. Miraculously, it passed through the colony without hitting a single one of them, destroying only a handful of stray asteroids that literally were vaporized by the impact and were blown out of the way. Only seconds later, the Spear followed, bursting out of the giant conduction barrel like a blue flame. It tracked the path of the initial blast and crossed the colony till it reached outer space before it plunged into a nearby wormhole.

"WHERE DID IT GO?" The red Dalek commander shouted after the Spear had disappeared from sight. "WHERE IS IT? WHERE IS IT?"

"Oh keep your metal hats on." The Master mumbled. "It should be coming out soon. Any time soon. Expected to appear…right…there." He pointed out a spot in the center of the Andromega constellation, which was made visible on the holovid as a dense shimmering cloud of white dots. Out came the shielding blast, followed by the neutron star. Both shot out again into outer space, leaving Andromega intact till it reached Poseidon's gate where they plummeted into another wormhole.

"I AM WARNING YOU, TIMELORD. IF YOU FAIL TO DISARM THE SPEAR-"

"You will what? Kill me? Really? You better be fast then." He sneered, and kept his eyes on an empty spot in space that lay in close proximity of the Hydra constellation. His fingers tapped nervously on the console, counting the seconds.

_Please please please._ He begged. _Please let it work._

The red Dalek was running out of patience. "YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR INSOLENCE! YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR DEVILISH CREATION!" He barked, and raised his laser canon.

Just when the red Dalek was about to shoot the Master in sheer panic, the dark spot above the head of the sky serpent dawned with a familiar blue light.

8.

"Doctor! Look at the sky! Something is happening!" Anne stared with bewilderment at the amazing spectacle that unfolded before her eyes. Meanwhile, the Doctor had managed to tiptoe his way back inside onto the floorboards. With sweat dripping over his forehead, he looked up in the direction of Hydra, and saw the blue antimatter star blast out of the second wormhole and into the head of the sky serpent, heading straight for the Vela Pulsa. When it almost reached its final destination, the leading light of the first blast finally burnt out, leaving only the Spear to finish the last leg of their journey. Realizing what was to come, the Doctor sucked in a deep breath and shut his eyes before he used his body mass to swing himself and Anne back inside the Tardis. The door banged shut behind them when they both landed and rolled over the floor. Anne grabbed hold of the railing while the Doctor managed to grab on to the console. The Tardis shook violently and reeled back. The doors swung open again, revealing Vela Pulsa's final moments. The antimatter star collided with its matter-based opposite and exploded into a blinding white light that lit up the serpent's head for over a million light years of distance to see, then the radiant glow was sucked back into the imploding center, becoming smaller and smaller, till it became only a sharp pinpoint of light, before it vanished into nothingness.

The Doctor pulled himself up and stared at the black space left behind. "He did it." He muttered, a smile of relief slowly spread over his lips. "He really did it!"

9.

"And...snake's eye." The Master said quietly to himself.

"YOU HAVE SUCCEEDED. THE SPEAR IS DESTROYED. THE DALEK RACE IS SAVED FROM EXTERMINATION." The red Dalek declared in a voice that sounded as close to being joyful as it was possible for these creatures.

"Well, you know what they say, every up must have its downside." The Master replied. His badly timed sarcasm was met by hostility. The Master sighed as he faced the row of raised guns. There was no use in trying to fight his way out. He was alone against hundreds. He held his hands up in surrender and gave the red Dalek a scrutinizing look.

"So…what will happen to me now?"

"YOU SAVED US." The red Dalek said, rather unexpectedly.

"Yes I did. Albeit reluctantly. But I doubt I will get bonus points for doing you such a favor."

"YOUR MISCONDUCTS AGAINST US ARE NUMEROUS. YOU DESERVE NOTHING LESS BUT TO DIE FOR YOUR CRIMES."

"But I just saved you whole awful lot!" He mocked, but inside, his hearts were trembling.

There was a short moment of contemplation.

"NO." The red Dalek finally replied in a cold voice.

The unexpected answer brought shivers down the Master's spine. "What do you mean?"

"YOU ARE A WARRIOR. A KILLER. LIKE US. MURDER IS IN YOUR BLOOD. TIMELORD OR DALEK. IN YOU I CANNOT SEE THE DIFFERENCE."

Alarm bells started to go off inside the Master's head. "What are you going to do to me?"

"YOU WILL BE MADE INTO AN EXAMPLE." The red Dalek replied, letting the other Daleks close in on the helpless Timelord like a pack of hungry wolves on an injured deer.

10.

"What are you doing?" Vinnie asked worriedly as he watched the Doctor fiddle with the numerous keys and switches on the Tardis dashboard.

"I'm trying to establish a communication-line with the other Timelord spaceships. I have to find out what happened to Martha. The threat of the Spear might be over, but the Daleks have now taken control of the colony and with that the lives of those who are left behind, including your master. They need our help."

"You're not trying to head back, are you? The colony is lost. It's swamped with murderous Daleks. Going back is suicide." Vinnie argued.

The Doctor didn't answer him. The lines with all of the colonies military bases remained down, so he had no idea what was going on. Meanwhile, Anne was close to being driven mad by anxiety, and was about to beg the Doctor to go back to find the Master when the Tardis finally managed to establish communication with one of the nearby Timelord spaceships.

A male voice cut through the static. "This is Alfa one speaking. Alfa one. Seeking the Doctor."

"Yes, that's me." The Doctor moved to the intercom. "Alfa one, Alfa one, this is the Doctor."

"We've got an Earthling on board. She's looking for you."

Snowy lines split the screen before it cleared and showed Martha's face.

"Martha! Are you all right?"

"Yes Doctor, everyone on our ship is unharmed. Although it's a bit crowded. We've got over 10000 people here. Even the bathrooms are filled up. I can't move around without accidentally stepping on someone's foot."

"And the other ships?"

"We've just established communication with the six nearby ships. Each of them are carrying around roughly the same number of refugees. The leading officer here told us that at least 30 more of these vessels made it out of Agora."

"What about the lord chancellor? Does anybody know what happened to him?"

Martha solemnly shook her head. "We've got the communication back on with the command center in the tower, but no one's replying. What we could pick up from the security cameras is that the whole place is taken over by the Daleks. We've intercepted parts of their communication and managed to unscramble it. It seems that they have taken a high-profile prisoner. They are transferring him back to their flagship."

"We really should head back." Whispered the Doctor, and shot a worried glanced at Anne.

"You have no idea how glad I am to hear you speak these words." Anne replied with a strong-minded look. The Doctor grinned and readied the Tardis for their return to the colony when a blast hit them. It shook the vessel with such force that all onboard swayed on their feet. When the Doctor checked the navigation systems, his hopes for a quick rescue of his friend vaporized into thin air when he saw what had caused the impact.

Although it had suffered considerable damage, the Daleks had raised the defense shield back up again. It was made visible by the blue translucent shine that packed in the entire colony like a massive soap bubble. The Tardis had hit the thermal wave that was caused by the reboot.

"The Tardis can't get back in. The shield is impermeable for Timelord technology." The Doctor said, defeated.

"We can't leave him." Anne whispered. "They'll murder him." She caught the anguished expression on the Timelord's face. "Doctor, we can't leave him behind!"

11.

The Dalek flagship had corridors that looked like the inside of a reptile, all pink and yellow and liquid, the walls were like a strange living membrane that was stretched over an arcade of bones. It was how it would be, or so he imagined, if one was devoured by a serpent.

He was locked inside a metal cage that was fitted on a cart, being wheeled as a trophy of war through the Dalek domains. His hands were fettered in chains. His head stuck out of the top of the cage, ready to be slain. The red Dalek ventured arrogantly in front of the procession like a general who had returned home victoriously. The Master, fearing the worst, had in his hearts already bid farewell to his beloved wife, and prayed in silence that his suffering would be soon over.

For suffer he most certainly will.

They came to a great cavernous hall that was the control room of the Dalek flagship. Here, the crimson walls beat like a quivering heart and transparent pipes ran like veins and spread a cloudy pink liquid over the entire ship. In the center of the room sat the Dalek emperor on his throne of bones and metal. Shed from his armor, he was a nightmare turned to flesh. He cast his one blood-shot eye down at the prisoner with much disdain.

"YOU WRETCHED ABOMINATION." It said in a fierce dark voice. YOU VILE CREATION OF OUR MOST TREACHEROUS FIENDS. NOW YOU STAND IN FRONT OF THE VICTORIOUS LORD WHO HAS SLAIN SO MANY OF YOUR RACE, DO YOU NOT TREMBLE?"

The Master raised his chin and spat on the floor. "What do you think?"

"YOU ARE STUBBORN AND FOOLISH. I BLAME YOUR STUPIDITY TO THE WEAKNESS OF THE FLESH."

"Pride is not weakness. Nor is my contempt for your whole stinking race." The Master replied hatefully. "It helps me to stand up facing you and your awful company."

"YOU HATE US."

"Oh I am sorry, did I give that away? How rude of me." The Master smirked. "But you're right, I hate you and your kind for all that you stand for, and you know what? The only thing I would regret if I was to die now is that I have not butchered thousands more of you!"

"AND YET, YOU SAVED YOUR MOST HATED ENEMIES FROM DESTRUCTION."

"I saved my loved ones. I did it for them. For her. I could have cared less than a grain of stardust for you vile monsters. I would have spat on your graves."

A deeply distressful sound came from the bowels of the Dalek emperor, like a hyena howling while it grinded its teeth on rocks, and it struck the Master with unease as he finally realized that the Dalek overlord was in fact laughing.

"Why are you laughing? Stop it! Stop mocking me! If you want to take revenge then just do it!"

"YOU HAVE EXTERMINATED THOUSANDS OF MY FINEST SOLDIERS."

"And you have massacred millions. We were trying to make a stand against you. We were fighting against the darkness."

"AND YET RIGHTEOUS TIMELORD. YOU HAVE KILLED."

"Only to defend the innocent, only because it was necessary." The Master justified.

"LIKE US. YOU ARE A WARRIOR. A GLORIOUS SWORD OF DEATH THAT CUTS THROUGH LIVES SO VERY EFFICIENTLY."

"I'm nothing like you." He said with great resentment.

"YOU ARE WRONG. WE ARE SO VERY ALIKE. I LOOK AT YOU, AND SEE MY DARKNESS REFLECTED IN YOUR HATEFULL EYES. I RECOGNIZE YOUR RAGE. YOUR AMBITION AND GREED. DOES IT FRIGHTEN YOU, TIMELORD. TO SEE IN ME, A PART OF YOU?"

"I'm not." The Master shook his head ferociously. "I'm not you. You are a monster. I'm a man who can care and love, and knows the difference between right and wrong."

"THOSE ARE THE WEAKNESSES THAT SETS YOU APART FROM US?"

"They are not weaknesses. It took me a long time to realize-" He bowed his head and swallowed. "But if I knew none of these things, I would not be anything better than a stinking Dalek."

"THEN YOU MUST FEAR LOSING THEM."

His hearts turned to ice. "What do you mean? What are you going to do?"

"YOU ARE A MOST PERFECT WARRIOR. ONE IN A TRILLION. THE CREATION AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SPEAR HAVE PROVEN YOUR GREAT WORTH. YOUR GENIUS SHOULD NOT BE WASTED. IMAGINE, TIMELORD, WHAT YOU COULD DO. IF ONLY YOU WERE PURGED FROM YOUR WEAKNESS. IF YOU WOULD BECOME PURE AND GLORIOUS DA-LEK."

"No! No you can't!" He drew madly on his chains. "Murder me if you must, stand me against a wall and pull the trigger, but don't make me into…into-"

"A MONSTER?" The Emperor laughed. "IF THAT IS WHAT YOU BELIEVE WE ARE, THAT IS WHAT YOU SHALL BE COME. THE VERY BASE BEAST THAT YOU LOATHE AND HATE."

"No! I beg you! Please don't! Don't do this!" The Master pleaded. "Have mercy! Anything. Anything but this!"

"WHEN YOUR FLESH IS CUT AND GROUND WITH YOUR BONES INTO THE PASTE THAT FIT A DALEK'S ARMOR, I WILL SEND YOU OUT TO DISPERSE THOSE WHO WERE ONCE IN YOUR HEARTS. YOU WILL SPILL THEIR BLOOD WITHOUT SHEDDING A SINGLE TEAR. YOU WILL FEEL NOTHING AND BE GRATEFUL. THAT IS ALL THE MERCY YOU CAN EXPECT TO RECEIVE."

The master cried out in desperation when they removed him from in front of the Dalek emperor's throne and brought him into the next chamber.

12.

In front of a blue dashboard composed of glittering dots that were connected by a confusing tangle of lines, The Doctor was manically scanning the channels, trying to intercept a Dalek communication line.

"If we could find done, we may use it as a link to guide the Tardis back inside the colony." He explained to the others. "It would be dangerous, and the Tardis would receive some serious blows, but at least we will get pass the defense shield."

"And this will work?" Anne asked.

"It has to." The Doctor mumbled and drew a line between two dots. A spark lit up and the blue dashboard vanished to be replaced by a snowy picture that showed the threatening frame of the red Dalek commander.

"WHO DARES TO HACK INTO OUR CIRCUITS?" His red eyepiece moved down till it found the Doctor. "WHO ARE YOU?" He demanded to know.

The Doctor stood up tall while Anne and Vinnie backed away from the screen.

"My name is the Doctor." He said, while his mind worked like mad to think up a new plan. Not only were they discovered, it wasn't his intention to establish a two-way link. A two-way link was just useless, because it was easily -

"WE HAVE BLOCKED ALL OF YOUR SHIP'S SIGNALS. YOU WILL NOT ABUSE OUR SYSTEM TO RETURN TO THE COLONY."

"That's exactly what I was afraid of." The Doctor mumbled.

"WHY DO YOU WISH TO RETURN, DOCTOR?"

Before the Doctor could answer him, Anne rushed forward, her cheeks red and moist with her tears. She was terrified, but ber worries for the Master's safety had made her overcome her fear.

"Because we need to rescue my lord and husband from the clutches of your soldiers. Please, you've conquered our colony, and the Spear is destroyed. We are no longer a threat to you. You have your victory. So now I beg you. Show mercy. Have mercy with this weeping heart of mine and let my beloved lord go."

"Anne, don't. The Daleks don't even know the concept of pity. Your pleading is only making it worse." The Doctor whispered urgently to her.

"YOU ARE THE MASTER'S WIFE?" The red Dalek inquired.

The Doctor looked at her and shook his head, urging her to deny it.

"Yes. Yes I am." Anne uttered in one breath.

The Doctor shut his eyes in desperation. There was a heartbeat of silence, before the red Dalek answered.

"THIS THE EMPEROR MUST KNOW." He said in a low voice. "IT WILL AMUSE HIM."

13.

The chamber in which his life would end was as black as the cold ground that buried the dead in their graves. A huge, hideous Dalek stood waiting for him. His black body armor was coved by spikes, a row of knives adorned its helmet, while it stalk arms had long, claw-like fingers made of razors. At first the Master feared that he had been brought before his butcher, but then the frightening creature split in two, opening like a coffin to receive him. His breath caught when he realized what lay in store, and he struggled when the Daleks took him out of his cage and forced him inside the belly of the black Dalek. When his flesh touched the metal, spikes shot out of the walls. He howled pitifully as they pierced his limbs, fixing them in one place. Then the lid was closed and latched, leaving in him inside in darkness and agony.

"DO YOU HEAR ME TIMELORD?"

The voice of the emperor, followed by his image on a small screen that appeared in front of him. In the dim light of the projection, his eyes caught sight of two needle-like probes that were only inches away from his corneas, ready to make the connection with the single eye-piece of the black Dalek abomination and his brains.

"I HATE YOU!" His screams were muffled inside the thick armor of steel. "If you think this is enough to turn me into one of you, think again. I swear I'll kill you! I WILL KILL YOU ALL!"

"THAT IS THE RIGHT MINDSET TO MAKE THE PERFECT DALEK SOLDIER." The emperor said with cruel amusement in his voice. "BUT BEFORE PERFECTION, THERE MUST BE PURIFICATION. WE WILL BURN AWAY THE WEAKNESS OF YOUR FLESH."

The small screen showed him what was happening outside in the black chamber, with the black Dalek in which the Master was now imprisoned in the center, hanging from a set of heavy chains. The floor beneath the hideous effigy slowly opened up, revealing a pit with at the very bottom, a liquid sea of boiling lava.

He went mad with fear. The sight of the fiery pit evoked memories of the cruelties he had suffered by the hands of Rassilon. Horrifying images flashed through his mind, the cage set aflame, the singeing of his flesh, the scorching, blackening skin.

"No! Not like this! I don't deserve this fate! I don't deserve this!"

In front of his eyes the black Dalek was lowered into the pit, and already the metal around his feet was getting hotter. He struggled, biting his lip to force his mind from the pain as he tore his hands free from the pins. With the blood streaming down his wrists, he bashed on the lid, but it held tightly. The temperature was rising inside the claustrophobic space, and the air became difficult to breathe. He screamed, weeping tears of frustration and rage. He didn't deserve this. He had fought so hard, and lost so much. All he had left was his pride and integrity, that little inch of himself that made him better than them. Better than he once was. And now, even that would be taken from him.

"Milord!"

Anne's face appeared to him as if in a dream. He struggled to clear his mind from the singeing heat that crept up his body. Anne, she was really there, and her tears were wept for him.

"REMEMBER YOUR WIFE'S FACE." The emperor tormented him. "REMEMBER HOW YOU FEEL NOW. NEXT TIME YOU MEET HER, YOU WILL KILL HER AND FEEL NOTHING."

"Stop this! Stop this immediately! Let him go you foul monsters!" Anne cried into the intercom.

"AND WHAT WOULD YOU DO, YOU USELESS LITTLE CREATURE? WHAT WOULD BE YOUR WRATH IF WE DON'T SPARE HIM?" The emperor laughed.

Anne stood frozen in front of the screen, overcome with a great hopelessness. The Doctor stood next to her, caught in miserable inertness as he had run out of plans. With the Tardis incapable of reaching from the Dalek's flagship, his friend's life was truly left at their mercy, and he knew very well that these metal-hearted fiends knew none.

He and Anne were forced to witness the Master's cruel death, and both could do nothing to save him.

"YOUR TEARS AND HIS SUFFERING AMUSE ME. BUT YOU ARE NOTHING. A SPECK OF DUST IN THE PADDLES OF TIME. YOU WILL BE FORGOTTEN. YOUR DEATH REMEMBERED AND MOURNED BY NONE. BUT HE, HE WILL BECOME OUR GREATEST WEAPON. OUR DEVINE INSTRUMENT OF DEATH."

"He won't allow that to happen." The Doctor said. His eyes caught a familiar face in the console room. A little girl in a white dress that he had not noticed before. She had just appeared out of thin air inside the Tardis. Invisible to the others, she was looking at him with accusing eyes. Her appearance had sparked his memories and joggled awake his brains from the dangerous passive slumber. "He's too clever to let himself to be turned into a murderous monster. To be turned into your Dalek slave."

"HE IS OURS. TO BE FORMED AND MOLDED INTO OUR OWN PERFECT IMAGE."

"You're wrong. He's a fighter, a brilliant renegade Timelord with an epic contempt for everyone and everything but himself. He may have forgotten this in this mad world, but I'm here to remind him." The Doctor stared at Rachel who nodded and smiled.

"You finally remember what I've told you." She said with great relief.

The Doctor gave he a little wink. "I promised, didn't I?"

"I once promised my friend that I would never abandon him." He told the Dalek emperor. "No matter however incredibly pigheaded he is or how stupid his mistakes. He's my responsibility. So here I am. Facing you, the Dalek emperor and the entire murderous army of space dustbins at the end of civilization. I'm here to help him wake up." He said determinedly.

"Doctor!" The Master's scream pierced through the intercom. The black Dalek was now lowered within an inch of the restless lava stream. The air inside was now insufferably hot, burning his lungs. The clothes on his body caught fire and the flames melted the fabric onto his skin.

"TOO LATE." The emperor roared in triumph. "THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO."

"Doctor." Rachel pulled on his sleeves. "You must let me go to him. He has to listen or he will never wake up again."

"I know, I know! But how am I going to do that?" The Doctor licked his lips, pulling his hair back like crazy. "I can't get you any closer to him. Even so, we've tried this before. He would just shut you out the moment he sees you." He paced up and down, waving his arms in frustration. "Oh if only I could get inside his thick skull! If only I could get inside his mind!" The Doctor stood frozen on the spot. A memory came back to him, the Master and him, arguing on board of the Tardis, right before they landed on the Infinity. The Master rushing to the door. His hand on the door handle. The mindtrap snapping shut…

"That's it!" The Doctor screamed with wide-eyed brilliance. "The mindtrap! We're linked by it. We're still are! Rachel. I can get you there, and this time, he will listen to you. I'll make sure of that." He ran back to the console.

"What's going on?" Doctor do you have a plan?" Anne asked.

"Oh yes!" The Doctor grabbed Anne and grinned. "And this time, we'll go home. All of us. I don't know where your home is…if you truly exist…but…" he planted a kiss on her forehead. "He loves you. And I thank you for that. For making him capable to love." He let go of a very perplexed Anne and took Rachel by his side. Crouching down, he stared into her very serious-looking little face. "Now." He told her as he placed his fingers on her temples. "Close your eyes. This might sting a bit. If you're in the dark tunnel and see a light appear in the distance, move towards it. Don't look back till you reach the other end."

14.

Inside his metal tomb, the Master was suffering. The flames had cooked his flesh halfway to the bones, his voice was lost, his vocal cords like two lumps of boiled meat, sitting useless inside his ruined throat. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he dreamt he was already dead and paying for his sins in hell, but then the fierce agony of his scorching flesh remembered him that he was still alive. It was in those final merciless moments when Rachel came to him. The little girl who had haunted him his entire life entered his mind like a pale, ghostly mist that slivered through an open window in the night. And although he still feared her, for even his agony could not wash out the centuries of dread, her presence was strangely soothing, a cooling hand on his blistering skin. Perhaps it was only fitting that his angel of death from which he had ran away all his life, would finally catch up on him, and spread her wings over his grave.

"Your head." Rachel whispered in a voice filled of naïve innocence. "It's so crowded. It's like wading through a thick soup of thoughts." She looked down at him. Her young eyes filled with compassion. "How can you still think when you're in so much pain?"

It was impossible to answer her. His tongue was cooked and stuck to his jaw. She put his mind at ease. "Don't say anything. Just listen. Listen to what I have to say, and the pain will end."

He whimpered, what remained of his hearts struggled inside his chest. She came close, and whispered into his ear the secret she had carried for so long.

"You can undo it. Just order her to end this. Order her to unmake this world, and we can go home." She said softly.

His metal tomb broke from the chains and tumbled into the lava lake. It plunged into the molten liquid and disappeared beneath the surface.

"Call her. You are the only one who can stop this. Order her to stop! Call her or you'll die!" Rachel urged.

The burning lava spilled into the coffin through the many cracks and creases, and ate away his flesh. With the last thought his damaged body was capable of before dying, he finally gave in and screamed for her.

The pain transformed into a blinding light, and in that light, he was drawn out of the darkness and the fiery pits of hell and cast back into the land of the living.

15.

The eerie room bathed in the blue light of Alfa Omega's presence. The slender humanoid cocked her head to the side and observed the Master as he woke, bathing in sweat, with a scream that carried her name still stuck in his throat. His eyes flew open. He looked around and found the Doctor and Rachel waking up on the floor not far away from him, as if they were shipwreck victims washed upon the shore after the storm. They were all unharmed. He cast his eyes up at Alfa Omega, his head spinning as he still adjusted his memories of that other world into this reality, and wretched.

"You are still affected by the suddenness of the transfer. My advice is not to exert yourself." The blue host informed him in a friendly way.

The Master sprung up and took a swing at her, but his fist cut through her image with only causing a slight stir in her projection.

"Master don't!" The Doctor struggled back up, his hand soothing the back of his neck. His joints ached as if he had just awoken from a bad night sleep on a stone bed. "She's just a program. She can't help it."

"Don't hurt her!" Rachel came to her defense. "She was just following your orders. You shouldn't have broken the mirror. It mixed up all the rooms. If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself."

Rooms. There were supposed to be three of them. He wheeled around. They were back on the Infinity, back inside the white-washed cabin facing the three red doors. Two were drawn wide open with thick brown smoke billowing out, filling the air with the smell of burned wiring. The third door remained closed.

With the anger of what had happened to him still smoldering inside his guts, he decided to act, and before the Doctor could intervene with the mind trap, he ripped the fancy design swan-neck lever from the console and stabbed it between Alfa Omega's black alien eyes. His hand trembled as the current crept inside his neurons and rushed in a stream of freezing cold energy into his head. "Open it!" He told her in a low threatening voice. "Obey me and open that cursed door!"

The light in her eyes dimmed. "Door three is locked. Door three cannot be opened. Door three is locked. Door three cannot be opened." She repeated in a soulless voice that followed the systematic drone of her dying digital heart.

The Master closed his eyes and forced his will upon her. Blue sparks erupted from her body and slivered like a nest of serpents towards the locked third door. The impact blew it right from its hinges. Rachel cried out in vain when the violence of the blow destroyed the blue hostess in the process.

The Master ran inside, spurred on by a mad hunger for vengeance, he was ready to strike down whatever or whoever he may find inside the last room. The Doctor following closely, determined to stop him from doing anything stupid.

The room was nothing more than tiny, with a console sitting against the wall. It's many dials and screens lit up like Christmas lights. Except for that, he found a second door at the other end and a very frightened looking human engineer trembling in his chair.

"What is this?" The Master muttered in astonishment. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?"

The rage in the Timelord's eyes was enough to send the young man fleeing in the opposite direction. He tumbled out if his seat, and before the back of the chair hit the floor, he had torn the other door open and had rushed right through.

"Hey! Hey! YOU! Stop!" The Master jumped after him and reached the other end of the room, just when the door slammed shut. He was about to pull it open when the handle melted into the door panel. He stepped back, and witnessed with frustrated bewilderment how the entire frame started to disappear into the wall.

"Stop! Come back! Come back!" He banged his fists onto where the door had disappeared, venting his anger to whom was on the other side. "You can't just vanish! Not after all that you've done to me! I order you! Face me! Face me you cowards!"

He bashed on the wall till his fists were raw and bleeding, and the Doctor could no longer bear watching him like this.

16.

"It's all right." The Doctor told him in a soothing voice as he wrapped his hands in bandages. "We're back, right where we started. Nothing happened."

The Master just glared at him in silence. From the wounded look in his eyes, the Doctor knew that it wasn't really so. That world, however unreal, had changed him more than the last hundred years that he had spent incarcerated in Rassilon's prison.

The Doctor could only hope that it would be for the better.

"You're right." The Master finally said, his hearts aching as he spoke out the lie. "Nothing happened."

Later, the two Timelords went back into the third room to study the console. It turned out that it functioned as a calculator of possibilities, running a program that could compute from the current conditions the most possible result and warp the time and space inside the second room to fit the calculated outcome. The more the Doctor studied the workings of the machine, the more he was impressed.

"This thing can create a mini cosmos around whoever desires it and keep it inside the four walls of a tiny room the size of a broom closet." He rambled excitedly. "The energy drain on its processor alone must be incredible!"

"It's made on earth in the 30th century." The Master said in a flat voice, for he didn't share the enthusiasm of the Doctor. "Now call me disdainful towards your pet race, but I can't imagine these humans building or inventing something as sophisticated as this, even at the very their height of their civilization."

"Undoubtedly, this machine is Timelord technology." The Doctor answered.

"And it has fallen into the hands of a bunch of blundering apemen." The Master said, not without spite.

"But why Rachel? Why did they take her?" The Doctor mused. "This machine was never meant to mess up our lives. We just happen to stumble right into it. It was built for her to keep her out of her own timeline. To what purpose?" The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck in contemplation. "Maybe she's someone important?" He opted.

"Maybe she will become someone important." The Master remarked. "She's kind of clever for her age."

"Oh she has to be more than that. What if she is irreplaceable? A gem in the stream of history without whom the whole world would turn out quite differently?"

"And they would know, because unlike the other fools who cannot look in to the future, they have this great machine which can calculate the best possible outcome for history's course." The Master added, looking back at the Doctor.

"Rachel is Jewish." The Master explained. "She told me once, in a dream. She came from a time on Earth, somewhere early in the 1940s, when it became dangerous to be who she was."

"The second world war." The Doctor said. "The Jews were murdered by the Nazis in the holocaust."

"They must have taken her from her timeline to protect her. To ensure her survival. Because if they didn't…"

"Rachel would have been murdered." The Doctor said softly.

"But who has built this ship to save her?" The Master asked. "Cui bono? Doctor? Cui bono?"

The Doctor remained silent. He rest his eyes on the logo of the Infinity Corporation, the triangle shape with the merging of Alfa and Omega, and had worried thoughts of his own.

17.

They decided to take Rachel back to her own timeline. Both of them avoided the subject of what they feared would happen to her when she went home to her parents. The Doctor kept reminding himself that he shouldn't become Lord Victorious again to decide unwisely over people's fate. The Master, however, wasn't so troubled by these Timelord morals.

Rachel was alone, sitting on the steps of the cylindrical staircase during her return journey, staring quietly into the breathing hearth of the Tardis. She had seen many strange things in her life. Although technically she was still eight years old, her unusual experiences on board of the timeless spaceship combined with six hundred odd years in which she had haunted the poor lord chancellor had aged her mind like a barrel of exquisite wine. She understood more than anyone in her time, and still she was shedding tears like a child. Rachel hardly looked up when the Master came to sit next to her. Although the young girl's tears unsettled him, he held his arms close to his body, for unlike the Doctor he was unfamiliar with giving comfort to others.

"Why are you crying?" He asked bluntly. "Aren't you happy to go home?"

Rachel wiped her nose. "I don't cry about leaving the Infinity. I was truly sick of that place. I cry because of what happened to Alfa Omega."

"That's the most idiotic reason to waste your tears." He spoke, but his voice lacked confidence. "She took you from your parents and made you prisoner. You should be rejoicing that she's gone."

"She couldn't help it. She did what she was made for. I don't blame her. And she was my friend."

"Oh don't be ridiculous, she wasn't a real person, just a very annoying program." The Master replied.

Rachel looked at him. "If that's so, why were you so sad when you returned? Why did you refuse to listen to me when I wanted to tell you to get us out of that world? That wasn't real either." She told him flatly, without further judgment. "Alfa Omega was real to me. And that is reason enough to be sad for her."

The Master returned her gaze. "By Gallifrey, you really are clever." He told her with a shadow of a smile. "Perhaps even a bit too quick-witted for your own good." He watched the change on Rachel's face. "Is that a smile? Really? Well well well, I am amazed, I thought all you could do was scowl at me."

"It was only because you wouldn't listen." She explained.

"You've should have met my mom. You both would have gone along just fine."

"Master, do you know what will happen?" Rachel asked. "Did you and the Doctor find out anything when you examined that machine?"

"Are you worried?"

"Not about me. It's more my mom and dad, and Eliza. That's my little sister. She can't speak yet but she bites like a lion cub." She said with a proud smile. "When I left, they were taking people away. People like us. Even if they did nothing wrong."

"The world isn't a fair place." The Master told the little girl quietly. "But that's why we should try to shape this world, and make it fair. Because if you don't stand up for yourself and fight back, no-one is going to undo the wrongs for you."

Rachel stared at him. "You do know what's going to happen to me and my family." Rachel finally said softly.

The Master nodded, his expression grim. "The question is, do you want to do something about it?"

18.

It was a quiet morning in early autumn when the Tardis landed in the small path of grass right in front of her flat. Rachel stepped out and breathed in the air of wet leaves and damp earth, while the weak light dawning at the horizon cast dark shadows over the grass. She sighed as she felt the burdens lifting from her heart. Finally, she was home.

Behind the window of the street balcony on the second floor, a shadow stirred the curtains. Rachel glanced over her shoulder at the two men who emerged from the blue box.

The Doctor crossed his arms and smiled back at her. "Go on then. Go ring the bell."

The Master just gave her a little wink, as if to remind her of the secret they both shared.

"Rachel? Rachel is that you?" Her mother's voice made her heart cry out for her. She ran back to her house, the long lonely years quickly forgotten with each step till she reached the front door. Hopping on her toes, she rang the doorbell with the tip of her fingers.

Hastened footsteps rushed down the stairs, and before she could ring a second time, the door flew open and she was swept up in her father's arms.

"Rachel! My little sweetheart. Where have you been? We thought you've been taken away by the Germans." Mister Boekbinder said. "We were worried sick."

She cried of relief into her father's bathrobe that smelled of shaving cream and cigarette smoke. Over his broad shoulder, she saw her mother, standing in the corridor with her little baby sister in her arms. Her eyes were red and rimmed with tears.

"Two months. I thought I had lost you. My little girl." She whispered, and lavished her with kisses.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you so worried. I'm so sorry." Rachel said, and kissed her parents and baby sister back. "I promise it won't happen again. Nothing bad is going to happen to our family. Not ever again."

The happy reunion was only interrupted by a strange sound that cut through the early hours of the morning like the wind sweeping over the quiet hillside. They all turned into its direction. It appeared to Rachel's parents that it strangely originated from an empty spot on the lawn where the grass was slightly flattened. But Rachel herself, because she knew what had been there, caught the final glow of the small flashlight on top of the Doctor's Tardis, just before it disappeared into the first sunbeams of this one fine autumn day.

19.

Back inside the Tardis, hurling through the timevortex at unimaginable speed, the Master finally dared to break the long silence that had prevailed since they had left. "So, where are we going now?" He asked, acting indifferent.

"What do you think?" The Doctor replied. His fingers were already feeding in the new coordinates.

"I would imagine that you want to find out more about the illustrious Infinity Corporation. Track it down and see if it leads to the culprit."

"Finding out about the secret company that was responsible for kidnapping a little girl from her timeline? Yes. Do we need to do it right away? No." He gave him a look. "There are more urgent matters at hand." He told him, and pulled a lever to send the Tardis into the future.

"Don't you want to know what is going to become of our little Rachel?" The Doctor asked, raising his eyebrows with a knowing smile.

"We know what happened to her." The Master replied with raised suspicion.

"Oh yes, the great prediction machine. But I was not talking about how things should have been." His smile disappeared from his face. "I was talking about how things turned out after she met you."

The Tardis engines stopped, and the Doctor went over to the door in four long strides. "Come on then, don't you want to see what you have done?" He asked in a tone that left the Master in doubt whether he was actually angered or pleased.

Outside, the day was clear, and autumn was still in the air. Only now, the world had seen more than 70 autumns pass by since both Timelords had last set foot on its soil. Cars filled the streets, and on both sides of the park where the Tardis had landed, high rises dominated the sky. Above them, a helicopter circled around the single historical building in the direct neighborhood.

"The year is 2012, October the 24th. We're in Stockholm where the greatest minds of science will tonight be rewarded with the Noble price." The Doctor told the Master as they made their way across the lawn. They reached a road where at the other side a gathering of journalists and photographers were jostling around the marble staircase of the monumental town hall. The arrival of a car with darkened windows triggered a canon of flashlights.

"And there." The Doctor pointed out. "Is our Rachel."

An elderly lady in a white dress stepped out and made her way over the red carpet. Time had changed her, but her eyes were still burning with a brightness that would pale most stars in the sky by comparison.

"It's her." The Master said. "It's really her. She still got that little sparkle in her eyes when she smiles." He turned to the Doctor, pleasantly surprised. "The Noble price?"

"Yep." The Doctor nodded. "For her work in the field of neurobiology. She is one clever, clever girl." He added admiringly.

"Is that why they tried to save her? Because they knew she would turn out to become a great scientist?"

"It's not only that. Apparently, she discovered a way to map neurological connections in the human brain. Mind you, what she did was only frontier work, but scientists after her will use that knowledge to push forward, and they will soon be able to map a thought, or study the pattern of a memory. Do you realize what that means? In a couple of generations, the human race will be able to make a map of a man's soul and preserve it in any way that they see fit."

"But if that's true a man could live forever." The Master murmured, furrowing his brows. "The whole of human history shall be rewritten by this."

"And it's all because of you." The Doctor said sternly as he watched Rachel disappear inside the town hall. "Because you didn't want her and her family to die. You warned her, didn't you?"

"I gave a choice. Understandably, she chose to live. What did you have to offer her? A grisly end in a chamber filled with toxic gas?"

The Doctor said nothing, but turned around and headed back with his hands inside his pockets.

"If you want to punish me. Do it!" The Master yelled, and ran after right him.

The Doctor just gave him a stern look before he entered the Tardis.

"Oh come on! You didn't drag me all the way here to see what became of Rachel and applaud my actions. You wanted to show me, how yet again, I've screwed up your precious universe." He slammed his hands on the console to prevent the Doctor from activating the Tardis. "Speak to me." He hissed. "Speak out your mind Doctor. Tell me how worthless you think I am."

"Give me your hand." The Doctor told him.

"What?"

The Doctor grabbed the Master's right hand, and a cold shock went through them both.

"There." The Doctor told him, turning his palm up and showing it to him. "The mindtrap. It's lifted."

"You removed it?" He asked, almost reproachfully. "Why did you do that?"

"Because now I know I can trust you."

"For grief's sake, I just meddled with the course of human history." The Master snorted. "How is that anything good in your eyes?"

"You want me to judge you?" The Doctor said, his hearts bursting with the things that needed to be said. "You want me to tell you that you're doing this world a great insult by existing, that you're a monster and that you're not worth saving? I won't tell you that, because it's bloody well not true!" He pushed the Master with his back against the console, his eyes blazing.

The Master stared back at him for a while before a mad smile crept over his face. "Come on then, hit me! It's what I deserve. What are you waiting for, you coward!"

"Why do you hate yourself so much?" The Doctor asked.

The Master burst out in laughter. "Why wouldn't I?" He giggled resentfully. "Look at me. I am pathetic. I am no longer the villain, and I am not the hero, obviously. Who would dare to call himself the hero of this piece in the presence of you, oh Righteous One." He added with dark sarcasm that tasted as bitter as bile in his mouth. "I can't even make amends, can't save a little girl's life without screwing up the lives of millions of others. I'm nothing." He sank down through his knees and bowed his head, finally letting the pretence go.

"In this world, I'm nothing." He muttered sadly.

"You're not nothing." The Doctor said, breaking the silence. "I know this. You know why?"

The Master just glared at him, still stuck in misery mode.

"When I went through the archives of the great library, back in the other world that you've created, I discovered what I would have become without you. I couldn't find any reference to my mad heroic tactics. I was nobody. It was as if I didn't even exist. You see, the truth is…all those wonderful things that I've done, all those planets and civilizations I've saved, all those people I've helped, everything really, either good or bad, that has ever happened to me, was because of you. If it wasn't for you, if you haven't been driven mad by the drums, I would never have felt responsible for what happened. And I wouldn't have gone out there, trying to save the universe, because everything I did, I did it to make amends. Because I knew I couldn't save you."

The Master stared at him, calmed and moved by his words. "So you became a hero, simply out of guilt?" He mocked half-heartedly. A pause. "Did you then. Did you manage to save me in the end?"

"I didn't lie to you when I told you've changed." The Doctor said. "And I wouldn't give up on you, even if you don't see it."

"Who am I Doctor?" The Master's voice sounded lost and painful. "I don't want to be the villain, not anymore. So who the hell am I?"

"You're my opposite. My antimatter. You're my friend without whom I cannot exist. You are my responsibility."

A faint smile broke through the misery on the Master's face. "And you are a psychiatrist's wet dream." He shook his head. "I thought that I was mad, but your mental problems rank right off the top of the list."

"Two madmen and a Tardis. Now the universe is in real danger." The Doctor held out his hand to the Master, which he took.

"So you trust me?"

"For as far as one can trust a madman." The Doctor said wisely. "But yes, I'm afraid I do." As a gesture of goodwill he stepped aside from the Tardis controls and gestured to the Master that he may take over.

The Master stepped forward. He stroked over the dashboard like a rider easing a new horse that he was about to ride. A little smile curved the corners of his lips.

"Doctor." He told him as he pulled the lever down for departure. "For your own sake, I hope that you're right about me."

20.

The banquet was served in the great hall where the Noble price laureates were seated at the head of the long table. Halfway through the first course, Rachel suddenly left her seat and rushed away to the nearby bathroom. There, she vomited in the sink for a good 10 minutes before her stomach finally settled, and she was capable again of lifting her head towards the light.

She had a migraine attack.

She was used to them, although they had grown worse over the years. Ever since she was brought back home they had haunted her, just like she had once, albeit unknowingly, haunted the Master. She stared at her own reflection in the mirror and grimaced.

Such an old face. All wrinkles and tired skin. Although, she already had been old in spirit when they returned her to her parents. It had been her mature mind that had saved her family by convincing her father to leave the Netherlands and flee to neutral Sweden. The encounter with the Master and the Doctor had changed the course of her life.

But so had the drums.

With a trembling hand, she shook the pills out of the bottle. Small and red, she thought them rather useless and didn't understand why she still took them except that it had long since turned into a bad habit. She swallowed a handful and bit them in the middle, letting the bitter taste fill her mouth before she washed it down with water from the tap. It was then that she heard them again. The drums. The four knocks that had come to her when she was a child and had stolen her away from her parents. Her breath stalled and she cast her eyes around the room, but no one else was there.

She turned back to the mirror. The sound grew louder. It always did. It hurt her head, and had probably caused her migraine problems, but it was also this sound that had inspired her to work, filling her mind with fantastic ideas that had pushed her towards the great scientific breakthroughs. Both her ill health and her brilliance, she owed it all to that alien, hostile sound. She closed her eyes and listened to that rhythm of four, ancient and cold, a dead man's hand warming itself by the fire of her living light, speaking to her through the cracks of time. A low evil laugh echoed inside her mind.

_Lowly human mortal, listen, listen to the drums, the never-ending drumbeat, and follow their commands. Gather my scattered essence from the dust of time, capture my majesty to rebuild my soul so I may rise again and let my glorious light burn the stars from the sky!_

Rachel looked up into the mirror. In her large dark eyes, the reflection in her pupils showed not her face, but the vortex, coiling like a serpent through the Eden that was time and space.

In the darkness that now consumed her, the drums resumed relentlessly.

**_The End_**

That's it people. Sorry it took me so long to finish this. Expect both madmen to return in the next installment of this series, called: "Before Harry met Lucy." Meanwhile, please comment or review. It keeps my spirit up.


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